#possible future drag king in the making??

[angelofpizza]

jo mama

if i ever achieve the dream of being a drag king living in California someday, I want to look like Peppino Spaghetti from Pizza Tower. It's because when I move out when I graduate and after making a life in California, I want to traumatize my adult brain that one time I made sus fanart of Peppino Spaghetti and gained followers from it during high school

i would like my drag king nickname to either be Peppy Spaghettios, Rey Nessance, or even San François... what do y'all think is better for me? 👉👈

ALSO AHHAHAHA I'M CLOSE TO SUMMER BREAK

TOMORROW IS THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL FOR ME AHAHAHHAHAHHH

ahahah what's even better is that pride month is coming up and imma come out early... I'm bigender lol

[gatorbites-imagines]

Yes! Wolverine & Deadpool having a brat off? Both sub brat bottoms competing for reader? Maybe ending up in a 3way relationship

Logan Howlett x Cable variant male reader x Wade Wilson

Headcanons

I like cable, so, cable variant reader. i had a lot of fun writing this, so i hope yall enjoy.

You were a variant of cable, that much was clear when Logan and Wade first met you in the void. The mechanical eye and arm were a pretty clear tell.

And Wade, already knowing his own Cable, immediately started squealing and trying to jump at you to hug you and kiss you all over in the way Deadpool is known for. Of course you throw him off you, maybe even shoot him once or twice, because who wouldn’t.

You and Logan were both pretty gruff guys, with pasts of your own that made you that way, where Wade was just his annoying self. It helped keep everything less tense though, especially in the fight against Cassandra.

In the end, you somehow got dragged along to the big fight, and you being a cable variant got different versions of Deadpool to start fawning over you during the whole fight sequence with them.

After it all was done and over with, you also got dragged along to Wades timeline. You were different enough to his cable to fit in without the universe ripping itself apart, and what could you say, you had grown to like these two, as much as you butted heads.

Blind Al was immediately against both you and Logan moving in, since there was barely any room at all. She did appreciate you being able to cook though, and the fact that you could jump across time to get her cocaine from the future.

In the end, Wade, Logan and you move out together after taking different jobs, and getting paid by the TVA to deal with variants making their way into this universe. You bring Mary poppins obviously.

You couldn’t tell when it all got romantic, neither could Logan and Wade honestly. You all lives together, and you'd left Wade in charge of getting beds, like the idiots you were. And of course he got one of those Alaskan king beds

Wade pouted and whined about how you were both so hairy, and how he was hairless all over so of course he needed to cuddle between you and Logan for warmth. It resulted in some fighting, Wade getting impaled by Logans claws, and you scruffing them both to pull them apart like scrabbling cats.

In the end you guys keep the bed though, and end up sleeping together with you in the middle. Logan has a preference to sleep on your mechanical arm, since he can’t break it easily, and wade just likes to tuck himself as deep into the crook of your arm as possible, always moaning about man stench and how nice and hairy you are.

That always results in you rolling over so your backs towards him, deciding to just spoon Logan instead. And yes, you do notice the little cocky smirk on Logan's lips when you do it, especially when he makes sure Wades watching. Its only when Wade starts rolling on the bed whining like a shot dog that he’s so cold and lonely that you roll back over to let him cuddle against you again.

Logan isn’t the most affectionate guy in the beginning, where Wade is too much. Its clear to you that they’re both acting like this as a defense mechanism, and it takes a long time for you to work them both to a place where they’re more comfortable.

You aren’t too shocked that Logan and Wade both turn out to be cuddlebugs, Logans just a lot grumblier and more catlike about it, where Wade is more like an over excited puppy slobbering all over your face, because he got the bright idea to try and lick your mechanical eye.

What you hadn’t expected was for them both to be so… damn… bratty…

Wade you could see, hell, it was even expected. It didn’t even take him an hour after meeting for him to bend over too much and grind back against you and giggle like a schoolgirl about it. Logan had been a bit of a shock though.

You had assumed you two would need to duke it out for dominance like a pair of bears for territory, but after getting him comfortable, Logan just rolls over and shows his stomach. It left you scratching your head a bit, but you weren’t gonna turn him away, who wouldn’t want to top Logan?

Him acting bratty was an experience though, the first few times. Where Wade was bratty in the way where hed show off way too much, wearing tight clothes or rubbing on you, teasing you any chance he got. Logan was brattier in the way that made you want to throw him over your knee and smack some sense into him, with the nonorganic hand you had.

He started scratching at furniture, leaving your boots and weapons all over the apartment, using up all your leather grease and leaving the tin empty in your toolbelt. It was like he was trying to see which buttons he could press and which he couldn’t.

Maybe it was because of your mind powers, but you could feel the, whatever it was, brewing in the air, growing thicker each day. It got to the point where Wade and Logan mixed up their methods. How the hell were you gonna focus on your guns when Logan was flaunting around in nothing but a way too small towel, and Wade was making a damn mess in the kitchen he wasn’t gonna clean up?

Logan was the first to pick up when they’d gone too far, since hed been hypervigilant about your scent since they started rocking the boat. But Wade very quickly paid attention when you put your, unpolished still, boots on and got up.

They’d both tensed up when you turned your two different eyes towards them, the tech eye flaring in a way they both knew meant business. They were both left floundering though, as you grabbed your jacket and told them to get ready for when you came back, and you just… left.

Both Wade and Logan were lost about that, both expecting you to bend them both over and make them regret how far they had pushed you, but instead they could just hear your heavy boots stomping down the hallway and out the apartment building.

Neither of them were too well behaved, but they were smart enough to at least get naked and prepped, and maybe they helped each other, though it was mainly Wade riding Logans fingers and whining like he was wounded the entire time.

A good hour passed before you came back, smelling like the cigarettes you smoked when you needed to do a more serious hit. Logan could also smell alcohol on you, but nowhere near enough to mean you were drunk. You had clearly just let them be to make them anxious.

Wade got whiny and grumbly when you undid your belt and freed yourself, just tilting your head in their direction as if to say “you gonna apologize to me?”. Logan, being the smarter of the two, and wanting to be first, was quick to crawl towards you and wrap his lips around your shaft.

Wade, seeing this, immediately started complaining and crawling over, trying to lap at whatever Logan couldn’t fit in his mouth, which wasn’t a lot, seeing as Logan didn’t want Wade to get any of you so he pushed his throat to the max.

As they fought for your cock, you just leaned back to watch, and unamused expression on your face as if it was the most boring blowjob you had ever gotten. Even as Wade swapped to lap at your sack instead, since Logan was hogging your cock.

You do end up fucking them both senseless, your telekinetic powers coming in handy to hold the one you weren’t shoving face first into the floor still. It also helped you keep Wades mouth shut, since he became even more of a motormouth with you inside him.

Of course, you also made Wade lick up the drool puddle he made on the floor, as well as making them both lick up the other messes they made. As a treat you let them eat your loads out of each other, because yes, you could be nice.

You weren’t though, so, even as Wade whined and complaining and Logan grumbled and scowled, you used your powers to cage them both up. If they were gonna be such brats, then they didn’t deserve to touch themselves, each other, or be touched by you.

And with the restriction being made from your mind powers, and you being so powerful, you could keep up with it even when asleep. And it wasn’t like they could just pull it off.

It led to even more bratting for the next couple of weeks, both of them acting out in their own ways about the punishment. But you just end up lengthening the period of your punishments, and adding more stuff on top of it.

Surprisingly its Wade that gets taken out of it first, since he could be good when he wanted too, and Logan has a tendency to be extremely stubborn. To no one’s surprise, Wade gloated the entire time he was allowed to ride you, taunting Logan that he wished it was him, but it wasn’t.

You did have to spank him for that one, but Wade didn’t seem to mind that much.

When you finally let Logan out, he’s on you in a second, whinier than you’re used too and rocking in your lap, more desperate than he’s been in years.

After all this you know their good behavior will only stick for a month or two before they’re back to it. you won’t complain though, since you love it. you act like you hate it, but that’s just part of the game, and seeing them compete makes your heart (and your crotch) full. And you all know that they enjoy the punishments too.

[lilianne-tarot]

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Pile I

CARDS: 10 of Pentacles, the Fool reversed, 9 of Wands and 10 of Swords reversed.

let’s be real, you’ve been through it recently. Like, emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually, just all of it. The cards are screaming resilience and overcoming, but they’re also side-eyeing you a little, like, “Are you actually letting yourself heal, or are you just surviving on autopilot?” Be honest.

10 of Swords reversed + 9 of Wands? darling, that’s the energy of someone who has been dragged through the trenches but still refuses to back down. You’ve been knocked down, betrayed, or just downright exhausted by life, yet here you are, pushing forward like the fighter you are. But the thing is… when was the last time you actually allowed yourself to breathe? Because this “I have to keep going no matter what” mentality is valid, but also, who said you can’t take a break? You don’t have to prove your strength by constantly being in survival mode. It’s okay to admit you’re tired. With The Fool reversed sitting here next to all this, I have to ask, are you resisting a new beginning? Are you clinging to the past because at least it’s predictable, even if it kinda sucks? Something is knocking at your door, asking you to take a leap of faith, but you’re hesitating. Maybe it’s a new opportunity, a new mindset, or even a whole new era for you (cue Taylor Swift ). Whatever it is, you’re holding back, and the question is why? Is it actual logic stopping you, or just fear of uncertainty? Because bestie, if fear is the only thing between you and a fresh start, that’s your sign to GO FOR IT.

Now, let’s talk about that 10 of Pentacles. This card is basically the “you’re meant for success, stability, and everything good” card, but here’s the catch: you have to believe you deserve it. Right now, there’s an energy of you working so hard but maybe not truly believing the rewards will come. Or maybe you think if you let your guard down, everything will fall apart again. Nah, babes, that’s the past talking. You’re being reminded that long-term happiness is possible without constantly being on edge. Trust that all the effort you’ve put in is leading somewhere. Stability is not a myth; it’s just something you have to be open to receiving.

Stop fighting battles that are already over. You don’t have to keep reliving past pain just because you’re used to it. Let it go. Rest isn’t laziness; it’s necessary. You’re not weak for taking a break. In fact, recharging will make you even stronger. Opportunities are knocking, answer the door. Even if it feels scary, don’t let fear make decisions for you. You’re closer to your dreams than you think. But you have to believe in the life you want. It’s not just for other people; it’s for you too.

The universe is basically giving you the “stop playing small” speech. You’ve done the hard work. You’ve survived. Now it’s time to live. The future you’ve been working toward? It’s not some distant fantasy. It’s happening, but you have to meet it halfway. You got this, bestie. 💖

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Pile II

Cards: The Moon, 8 of Pentacles Reversed, King of Cups Reversed, 4 of Pentacles

First off, bestie, are you feeling lost? Confused? Like you’re walking through life with a blindfold on, second-guessing yourself at every turn? Because this card is giving me me big "I have no clue what’s real and what’s just my overthinking brain" energy. Maybe you’ve been feeling unsure about your future, your relationships, or even yourself. It’s like you’re in this fog, and no matter how hard you try to see clearly, everything still feels murky. But here’s the thing, The Moon isn’t just about confusion; it’s also about intuition. So trust those gut feelings, even when your logical brain is like, "Nah, that’s crazy." Your intuition is on point, even if you don’t fully believe it yet. Now, whew, I feel called out just looking at this. These cards are all about burnout and feeling like no matter how hard you work, nothing is paying off. Have you been grinding non-stop but feeling like you’re getting nowhere? Maybe you’ve been questioning if all the effort you’re putting into something, your job, school, a passion project, is even worth it anymore. This card is saying, "Hey, take a step back and breathe for a second." You are doing so much, and while it’s great to be ambitious, you can’t pour from an empty cup. So if you’ve been feeling like you’re running on fumes, this is your permission to rest. You don’t have to be productive 24/7 to be worthy. You are enough just as you are, even when you’re resting.

Uh… what’s going on emotionally, bestie? This card is giving me major "I’m feeling everything but pretending I’m fine" vibes, idk but major olivia rodrigo vibes, from her betrayal songs. You might be feeling emotionally overwhelmed, but instead of dealing with it, you’re either bottling it up or letting it explode at the worst times. Maybe you’ve been dealing with someone who is emotionally unavailable, manipulative, or just straight-up confusing. OR (and hear me out) you might be struggling with setting boundaries, especially with people who drain you emotionally. If you've been feeling extra sensitive lately, or like you’re constantly on the verge of snapping, this is your sign to check in with yourself. Your feelings are valid, and you don’t have to pretend to be okay when you’re not. Be gentle with yourself, okay? What are you holding onto so tightly that it’s keeping you stuck? Is it fear? A toxic situation? A scarcity mindset that’s making you afraid to take risks? The universe is asking you to loosen your grip a little. You can’t welcome new blessings if your hands are full of things you’re afraid to let go of. This could be about money, love, or even old beliefs that no longer serve you. Whatever it is, I promise you, letting go won’t ruin you, it will set you free.

You’re not crazy; you’re just in a phase of uncertainty. Trust your intuition, even if things feel unclear right now. You need a break. Burnout isn’t a badge of honor. Rest is productive, too. Stop bottling up your emotions. Cry if you need to. Talk it out. Scream into a pillow. Just don’t let it fester inside. Loosen your grip. Whether it’s fear, control, or a situation that’s keeping you stuck, it’s okay to release it.

I know things might feel heavy right now, but listen, you are doing so much better than you think. You are growing, even when you feel stuck. You are worthy, even when you’re not at your best. And most importantly, you are not alone. Keep going, bestie. I believe in you.

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Pile III

Cards: The Hermit, Wheel of Fortune, The Fool, Nine of Swords Reversed.

Bestie, we need to have a real talk because this spread is giving "deep self-reflection mixed with anxiety and a sprinkle of self-sabotage." You’ve been in your introspective bag lately, haven’t you? The Hermit is showing up loud and clear, which means you’ve been spending a lot of time in your head, analyzing everything from your past mistakes to your future moves. It’s giving "I need answers, and I need them now!" vibes. But here’s the thing, sometimes the answers don’t come when you’re actively looking for them. Sometimes, they come when you allow yourself to live, to experience, to take that step forward without needing a perfect plan. And then we have the Wheel of Fortune, which is basically the universe’s way of saying, “Ready or not, here I come.” Change is coming, whether you’re prepared for it or not. The good news? This is a shift in your favor. The not-so-good news? It might feel a little uncomfortable at first. Change always does. I feel like some of you have been resisting this change, afraid to let go of old cycles, old identities, or even old people who no longer align with who you’re becoming. Bestie, it’s time. The wheel keeps turning, and you don’t want to be stuck in the past while life moves forward without you. Now, let’s talk about The Fool, reversed. Normally, The Fool is all about fresh starts, jumping into the unknown, and trusting that the universe will catch you. But reversed? It’s giving hesitation. It’s giving fear of failure. It’s giving "What if I make the wrong decision?" And to that, I ask, what if you make the right one? What if taking that leap is exactly what you need to finally feel free? Staying stuck because of fear isn’t serving you, and deep down, you know it. You’ve been standing at the edge, looking at the possibilities, but refusing to jump. It’s time to take that risk. Life is messy, unpredictable, and full of surprises, but you are capable of navigating whatever comes your way.

And LAWD, Bestie, be honest, how much sleep have you lost lately? Because I see that ya'll are going through late-night overthinking, worrying about things you can’t control, and letting fear dictate your reality. I see you stressing about things that haven’t even happened yet. It’s like your brain is running a horror movie marathon starring all your worst-case scenarios. But let me remind you: Most of those fears? They’re not real. Your mind is playing tricks on you, making you believe that everything is worse than it actually is. It’s time to break free from this cycle of stress and worry. You are stronger than your fears, and you have more control over your thoughts than you realize.

So what’s the takeaway here? you’ve done enough thinking, it’s time to apply what you’ve learned, change is coming, and you need to embrace it. Stop doubting yourself and take the damn leap. You are so much more powerful than you give yourself credit for, and the universe is fully supporting you. It’s time to step out of your comfort zone, trust yourself, and believe that good things are actually meant for you. The cycle of doubt and hesitation is ending. Let’s move forward, bestie. You go bestie! EZPZ!

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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog, it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[tojisglazer]

🌟Random JJK Men Headcanons!🌟

Creds to @cafekitsune for all dividers!!

Masterlist

NSFW CONTENT UP AHEAD!!

Includes: Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Shiu Kong (Maybe more characters in the future! Recommend some n’ they might be up here next!…just no minors pls unless it’s for fluff 😭😭)

Not rlly proofread so I’m sorry for any mistakes!!!

Kento Nanami

• Would definitely be a whiner, especially when it’s time to get up in the morning, “Mmm..darlinggg…”, his grip on your waist becoming tighter. “Just five more minutes.. pretty please…?”, how could you possibly deny your sweet husband?

• Kento will always help you with your hair if needed and is always good at it (You don’t know this, but every night while your sleeping, he watches YouTube videos on how to style curly hair in cute styles he knows you’d like).

• Rarely ever cries to you since he doesn’t want you stressing out over him. When he did cry, however, you’d be sure to have him lay on your lap and softly coo at him until he falls asleep.

• Will be the cook of the house. Sure, he’d let you cook a few meals from time to time, but he would prefer cooking for you instead of vice versa. (His food ALWAYS ended up delicious)

“Kento let me cook for tonight please! You cook all the timeee!” You whine as you’re being dragged back to the living room by your husband.

“Please, my love, sit down. I want you to relax this evening.” Kento kisses you on your forehead as he sits you down on the couch. “Dinner will be ready in a few, okay?”

“Tomorrow night Kento, I will be cooking.” You say with a pout on your face, and Kento can’t help but let out a chuckle.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

• When one of your favorite songs of all time play on the car radio, you’d scream the lyrics, eventually luring Kento in to sing with you. He probably wouldn’t know half of the songs you listen to, but he’ll still sing with you if it makes you happy.

• Never calls you by your name unless something serious is going on. Will always call you baby, sweetheart, darling, love, or honey. (Ex. “Love, if you don’t mind, could you get me a sandwich from that bakery I always go to?” “Honey, you’re always so good to me, I love you so much.”)

• Speaking of which, he loves it when you call him sweetie, Ken, or even if you refer to him as “your man”. He gets hard just thinking about it.

• He’s definitely a little pervert. Whenever you’re out the house for a lengthened period of time, he’d use the opportunity to steal multiple pairs a pair of your used underwear and jack off to it in your shared bedroom, making sure to leave his cum right in the center of your panties. Little did he know, however, the cameras in your house caught every second of it.

• Kento would absolutely love to be dominated by you. Just the thought of you riding him and fucking him with your strap until there’s tears rolling down his face just does something to him.

• He’ll beg and whimper to you at any point during sex, the way he looks so pathetic as soon as you have him in your grasp is something indescribable and makes you want more. “Mmh—babyyyy—haah—oh goddd—I’m gonna cumm-”

“L-Love please—please let me—”

“Ooohhhh—can’t hold it b-back, d-darling-“

• We all know this man is an absolute king when it comes to aftercare. Giving you a minute to rest, he goes to your kitchen and brews up some chamomile tea. Afterwards, he runs a warm bath with some rose petals which he knows you like.

Toji Fushiguro

• Isn’t very good at communication due to being raised in nothing but an abusive household. Knowing this, you help him every step of the way, and he can’t help but look at you with hearts in his eyes.

•He’ll hit you with a dad joke at the most random and unexpected times. You could both be showering together and he’d be talking about some, “What do you call two ducks and a cow? Quackers and milk.” They’ll always make you laugh, though.

• Expect Toji to tease you 24/7. For example, if you’re wearing a bonnet, best believe he’s snatching it off as soon as you walk past him, laughing and holding it over his head as you’re trying to take it back.

-SWOOP- All you feel now is a breeze on the top of your head instead of your trusty bonnet. “Toji I swear to God if you don’t stop snatching my bonnet there’s gonna be problems.” You turn to face the man who now has your leopard print bonnet in his big hand.

“Oh please girl,” you hated the way he mirrored your sass. (You didn’t) “Y’r not gonna do a thing to me.” He chuckled, now putting your bonnet on his head.

“Tojiiiii you’re gonna stretch it outtt!” You groaned and hit his chest, yet Toji doesn’t pay you any mind.

“Babyyyyy,” He mimics you, “I’ll give it back under one condition.”

You sigh, knowing the exact condition.

“Jus’ gimmie a kiss, and the bonnet is all yours.”

• His usual go-to of pet names would include: Doll, babe, baby, ma, brat, and princess (Ex. “Babe, you wanna come to this new restaurant with me? Heard they had some good steak.” “Quit bein’ such a little brat.” “Y’look so damn pretty, doll.”).

• Toji brags to his best friend Shiu all about you, much to his annoyance. He boasts about how pretty you are, how smart you are, how big your ass is, and how lucky he is to have you.

• He absolutely loves the way you treat his five year old son, Megumi. You treat the boy as if he’s your own, and Toji can’t help but smile until his cheeks are sore, and even then he wouldn’t stop smiling.

• This man cannot cook for shit. The only cooking he’s doing would be making toast with butter or ordering takeout.

• He’d definitely eat you out of a house and home and take a fat nap afterwards, though. His portions of food would be enough to feed three people. Living with him, you’d have to go food shopping every two days.

• Though he’d never admit it, Toji loves hugs and how you smother him will all kinds of affection. He’d act all annoyed and tough and claim he doesn’t like it, but deep down you both know he eats it up every single time.

•Expect to see dirty gym socks and other clothing attire scattered across your shared bedroom. You’ll tell him to stop acting like a pig and clean up after himself, but it’ll go in one ear and straight out the other.

• Toji has such a praise kink. Whenever the words “good boy” or any other compliment leaves your pretty lips, it’s like he can’t think for himself anymore.

• He loves, loves, loves, having sex in missionary position with you. He loves being so close to you, being able to smell your special scent, and whisper in your ears, “Look how—fuck—look how messy this pretty pussy is for me, ma.”

“Y’r taking my cock so fucking well, baby.”

“Love ya so fucking much, y’know that? Hah—shit—Yeah, y’know that.” while he’s absolutely demolishing your insides. Don’t get him wrong, the man loves tons of sex positions, but missionary will always be his first pick.

• He may not look the part, but Toji whimpers and moans like crazy when he’s about to cum. “Hnghh—ooohhhh—fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—“

• When he cums, expect a bunch of it. It’s so much that it leaks out of your throbbing cunt and onto the light pink bed sheets, leaving a puddle.

• His kind of aftercare would be licking your clit, ridding it of any leftover cum. Afterwards, he’d give you a water bottle and massage any aching body parts. He’d then order some of your favorite take out and you’d both eat it together while watching some corny dad show he found on tv.

Shiu Kong

• You have this man wrapped around your pretty finger. He’ll spoil you rotten. He couldn’t possibly think of saying no to his princess, especially when he has the money to get you whatever you want.

• You will never find yourself in a position where you need to lift a finger whenever he’s around. You’ll get nothing but royalty treatment.

• Shiu absolutely hates it whenever you’re around Toji. He knows Toji wouldn’t do anything, but seeing you even look at him gets on his nerves.

• You wake up to the smell of some freshly cooked bacon and eggs (or whatever else you’d favor) due to him. His day will literally be ruined if he isn’t able to cook for you.

• Whenever you want your hair and nails done, Shiu will give you the money, plus a little extra so you can get yourself something nice.

• Your car will definitely end up smelling like his cigarettes mixed with his signature cologne after a while.

• You practically beg him to teach you a few words in Korean (mostly curse words) since you claims he sounds so sexy speaking it.

“Come onnnnnn,” you whine, following Shiu around the house as he carries the clean laundry in a basket. “Just one word, please?”

“I’ve already said a word, princess, don’t you remember that?” He stops in his tracks and turns to face you.

“Okay—well—one more!” you pout and cross your arms.

“Don’t do that,” Shiu chuckles, then sighs contently. “How could I ever say no to you, beautiful?” Your eyes light up and a big smile is displayed on your face.

“사랑해요, 예쁜.” He whispers in your ear and leaves a kiss on your cheek.

“What’s that mean??”

“It means I love you, pretty.” He cups your face with two hands. You can’t help but giggle and leave a kiss on his lips.

• Like Kento, Shiu wouldn’t call you by your name at all. He hasn’t called you by your name ever since you two first met. Sometimes you wonder if he even knows your name (he does). The names he calls you are: Doll face, love, princess, pretty, beautiful, bunny (Ex. “Did y’want this necklace, princess?” “Let’s go out to eat, doll face.” “You can take it, bunny, can’t you? Yes you can.”).

• Every morning, his head is found in between your legs, licking and sucking at your clit. Every time you try to push his head away due to overstimulation, he says “Come on, pretty, m’just eating some breakfast, gimmie a minute.”

• This man is extremely weak for head. His breathy moans only get louder as he’s getting closer and closer to his climax. “Ohh f-fuck—my love—s-s’close—”

“Y’r sucking s’good pretty—mmh—so fucking good-”

• He’ll immediately return the favor by stuffing your sobbing pussy with his fat cock, thrusting in an unforgiving pace. “H-Hah—you h-hear that? Y’hear how she’s—shit—purring for me l-love?”

“I know you can take it bunny, I know you can—ooohhh ffffuckkkk-”

• After he’s done with you, he kisses your forehead and wipes you down with a warm damp towel. He then massages your plump thighs and kisses your face a bit more. When you’re finally asleep, he goes out to your balcony for a quick smoke.

[isetfiretomyself]

Yandere King X G/N Ghost reader

Trigger warnings! Death, violence ,You die (obviously lmao), Yandere s/hs , More of a lovesick Yandere. This is my first ever fic so if I've missed anything please let me know!

With that said just imagine a...

👑Yandere Prince who sneaks out...like a lot. What can he say? He loves his kingdom! If he is to rule it one day he must understand it.

👑A Yandere Prince who one day bumps into you! A commoner nothing more, nothing less but to him. You were everything! Your passion, your gratefulness, your kindness is everything he loves about his kingdom in one person! You live in a little village just outside the kingdom but still in it's land. You try to avoid crowds, you have a collection of rocks and crystals. A harmless hobby that got you label as "mysterious" or "freaky".

👑Yandere Prince doesn't mind this at all! You're so pure and happy, you would never harm anyone! (And the more people believe you're threat the more you're all his-oop!)He loves when you ramble about the rocks you collect along the lake, his heart hurts when he finds out the reason you have mostly rocks in your collection is because you can't afford crystals.

"Your majesty?..." You open your door one night. "What ever are you doing at this-!" You didn't have time to finish before the young prince launches at you. Hugging you tighter then ever before, it's almost painful. " Father wants me to marry..." It's all he says, you try to see his expression but he's holding you so tightly you can't move. His blond hair covers his blue eyes. "I-I can't!" He's voice breaks. You've never seen him so Human, His prince persona complete forgotten.

You rub his back. "You'll make a fine husband, your ma-"

"Neil"

"I'm sorry?"

"Call me Neil... please" He pulls away from you. He gently moves his hands to cup your face and leans in. Before anything can happen there's a sudden slamming of your front door bashing into your wall. You scream in terror while Yandere Prince tries to keep you as close to the other side of the room as possible. Royal knights come in and pull the prince away from you.

"Unhand me!" Yandere Prince use's all his strength to pull away from the knights but with three of them restraining him it's near impossible. He's eyes wide in pure fear when he sees you being shackled. "No! No! You can't! You can't!" Kicking and screaming while being dragged into the carriage, he woke up the whole village with his tantrum. You keep your head down. If it wasn't for the knights dragging you along it would of been impossible for you to see, tears filling your eyes.

👑Yandere Prince who had to be bound to his bed when he found out you were to be hanged. His obsession of you being misunderstood as a love spell you cast on him. In a sick sense of comedy the more he screamed and cried the more it made up the kings mind.

👑Yandere Prince who managed to convince his personal maid, the one that's been raising him like her child since his mother's passing. To visit you one more time, to send his love and beg you not to hate me. To his surprise she returns with a small rose quartz you had on your clothes for him to keep.

👑Yandere Prince who cried so hard he vomited on your execution day. The cheers of the crowds fueled his rage. That night he was sat in bed rubbing his sore wrists, eyes puffy from crying. He brings his knees to his chest when he feels a hand on his back.Turning around he saw nothing.

👑Yandere Prince who has hardly slept since your death. Who is a vile shell of the young man he once was. On the day he had to meet his future bride. He punched a mirror unable to see himself with anyone who wasn't you.

That night he stumbled back into his chamber having drank his sorrows away to forgot everything. But he could of swore he never cleaned away the glass shards and he never let the staff in his chamber anymore.

That night he saw you. He came to him in his dreams. You're figure looked smaller then usual. The red ring around your neck was all he could stare at. "My love?" Was all yandere Prince could muster before waking up, the rose quartz in hand.

👑Yandere Prince who started carrying the crystals around everywhere, oh and I mean everywhere. He didn't believe it did anything but slightly ease his pain. That was an till his father, the king. Snatched it out of his hand "You stupid boy! Can't you see this was the vessel that ruined your mind!" And that was all it took. Yandere prince took his sword and plunge it into his father's heart. He went on a rampage killing everyone from the exactor to the civilians that cheered your demise.

👑Yandere king that became the most feared man in all this side of the mountains. All that death managed to bring Ghost readers form into this realm.

"My love... never again will I let scum take you away from me." He tried to take your hand in his but it just felt like a cold tingle on his palms.

After this yandere king made his staff build a steal box to keep the rose quartz safe. Maybe his father was right...the crystal was a vessel for someone.

[elluminis]

One Piece Fic Recs

Unsurprisingly, I’ve read a ton of one piece fics in my day! I thought it might be interesting to make a list of some of my favorites, organized by the main ship. Fics with a ❤️ are an all-time favorite—doesn’t mean they’re necessarily any better, but they make my heart happy :)

Gen:

Already Forever by taizi (NR)

A character study on Luffy, told from Nami’s perspective :)

Fishbowl by taizi (NR) ❤️

Hi this fic is absolutely heartbreaking. There’s a fantastic comic adaptation on tumblr that I’ll have to find and link here (edit: found it), but suffice to say—this fic resonates with a lot of people for a very good reason. Just…read it. You won’t regret it.

Hide The Knives by SrirachaBunny (G)

When Red-Haired Shanks stops by the Moby Dick, Ace’s crewmates come to the horrifying conclusion that since he failed to kill Whitebeard, surely he’ll try to take the other emperor’s head next, right? Fortunately (and to their infinite confusion), they prove to be incredibly wrong.

How I Wanted to Follow You by longingparadise (G)

A bittersweet, POV Outsider future fic. Long after the death of the second Pirate King, it’s become customary for crews seeking the One Piece to stop by a small town in the East Blue, where the Pirate King’s own first mate now resides…

The Many Marriages of the Straw Hat Pirates by LadyCrimsonAndBlack (G)

Basically, how many times can the Strawhats get married to one another for tax benefits?

blow my blues away by LadyCrimsonAndBlack (T)

In which the Strawhats manage to get arrested for everything but piracy.

Losing Time (You Can’t Go Home Again) by HyperbolicReverie (T) ❤️

Law is a character that I adore with all of my heart, and this is an absolutely fantastic character study. This fic had me sobbing in the best possible way.

Numismatics by HyperbolicReverie (T)

The best way I could describe this fic is a POV Outsider semi-character study on Law?? HyperbolicReverie does Law character studies like no other I stg 😭

trouble is a friend of mine by taizi (T)

Is my adoration for POV Outsider showing? In which Sanji is captured, and some inmates chat with him :)

whatever you can still betray by midnightluck (T)

Ace doesn’t make a lot of sense, when you think about it. So the only possible conclusion is that he’s a marine spy, right?

Lawlu:

Not a Ball or a Chain by HollowIsTheWorld (T)

In which Law desperately hopes that his soulmate is platonic, but somehow, Luffy manages to prove him wrong. I absolutely adore a lawlu fic where they’re both explicitly ace/aro-spec :)

Practicality is Useless Around Here by Ghosty_bee (T)

Wherein Law is dragged into the world of the supernatural against his will by the unstoppable force that is Luffy.

Something in a Smile by Pneumatic (T)

One of the few things I like more than a soulmate AU is a soulmate AU where they aren’t actually soulmates. Feat. platonic soulmates Luffy and Zoro :)

A Smile in My Veins by betsib (M)

Vampire!Law is just trying to live his life as a doctor when he stumbles upon paranormal investigator!Luffy at a bar. Feat. my favorite found family Strawhat vibes, a good supernatural AU, and a healthy serving of lawlu :)

Heart by lovely_hina (M) ❤️

In which Law spends a little more time nursing Luffy back to health following the events of Marineford, and Luffy offers him the warmth and comfort that he hadn’t known he’d been missing.

Until we drown by chenziee (T-M)

My favorite type of omegaverse, which is nontraditional! Basically, sex-repulsed omega!Law meets sex-neutral alpha!Luffy. You know me and my love of asexual lawlu :)

Acclimating by justira (E) ❤️

My holy grail of ace/aro-spec lawlu. Just…absolutely fantastic.

Curiouser by xairylle (E)

In which Luffy finds Law reading aloud to be extremely hot :)

I could drown myself in someone like you by sweetdd (M-E) ❤️

I am OBSESSED with everything Dee writes and this is one of the many series of fics that they’ve written that I adore. Feat. childhood friends!lawlu :)

Inhuman Potential by sydneyxface (E) ❤️

Feat. pathologist!Law, vampire!Luffy, a fantastic mystery/thriller plot line, and some wonderful smut :)

Many Hands by AsterC (E)

What if a fic started as filthy smut and then chapter two turned into a complex character study, through the lens of BDSM? *smacks hood of car* this fic has everything!

Matters of the Heart by sweetdd (E) ❤️

I think this fic changed my brain chemistry. The sugar baby!Luffy and sugar daddy!Law AU that I never knew I needed, complete with fantastic smut, heart-wrenchingly human characters, and the unbreakable bond of the ASL brothers :)

My heart’s an autoclave by macabrekawaii (G-E) ❤️

This is actually a series of interconnected oneshots, but it explores one of my favorite lawlu dynamics, which is aro/ace-spec identities and their influence on intimacy. There’s also some zosan and Shachi/Penguin, but I think this series belongs under the lawlu category :)

Marcace:

think once, feel twice by charlie_mou (T) ❤️

I absolutely adore this fic. A soulmate AU where soulmates can feel each other’s strong emotions (and maybe more)? This fic has all my favorite things—an author who has a verifiable treasure trove of info (this time, on sailing and navigation), realistic therapy, and some real fucked up mental health (Ace my beloved).

Zolu:

into flame by kurgaya (T)

Feat. phoenix!Zoro and agender!Luffy. I don’t read zolu very frequently since I have a clear bias for zosan but that just means every zolu fic I recommend is very good 😤

Zosan:

To Brighter Futures by Cherry_Sundae (T)

A future fic, after Luffy has become King of the Pirates. Sometimes, it takes a little extra time and a kick in the ass for things to finally fall into place :)

Cradle and All by Hazel_Athena (T)

It’s Hazel_Athena, the patron saint of T-rated zosan fics! This is a series of accidental child acquisition zosan, and it’s absolutely fantastic :)

Divinity in Your Eyes by rkdlkai (T)

I don’t know how to properly describe this fic? It’s like…a Greek myth, plus a soulmate AU. Good stuff :)

Easy Love by 8ball (T)

In which the entire crew is whammied by a love spell, but Zoro’s been in love with Sanji for a lot longer than a day.

Facade by Hazel_Athena (T) ❤️

The fake-dating AU that WCI needed!

First Breath of Air by Hazel_Athena (T) ❤️

An absolutely brutal late escape from Germa AU :)

Interim Arrangements by Hazel_Athena (T) ❤️

After the Strawhats take down Big Mom, Judge is forced to find a new pirate group to ally himself with. And who better than the group strong enough to take down Big Mom herself?

Merman Verse by Hazel_Athena (T) ❤️

A series of fics—in which a merman washes up on the shores of Germa, and Sanji is hopelessly kind.

Retrograde by Hazel_Athena (T)

In which amnesia is a bitch.

To Have and to Hold by Hazel_Athena (T) ❤️

In which Sanji leaves for Whole Cake Island, but there’s one problem—he’s already married.

Your Place in the Sky by Harubo (T)

In which Zoro is always lost, but Sanji can always find him.

Burning Man by neoglaceon (M) ❤️

This is the fic that opened my eyes to the wonder that is trans!Zoro. Just…an absolutely gorgeous fic.

Deep by CharlieNozaki (M) ❤️

Yet another fic that altered my brain chemistry! This is one of the fics that made me absolutely obsessed with mermaid AUs :)

Fate’s Requiem by three_days_late (G-M) ❤️

This is actually two fics, but they’re both fantastic. Yet another instance of soulmates that aren’t quite what they seem :)

A heavy heart to carry by inkinmyheart (E)

Another supernatural AU, feat. vampire!Sanji and bounty hunter!Zoro. I don’t want to say any more because my favorite part of this fic is a blatant spoiler, but it’s worth the read!

Akkorokamui by Harubo (E)

What can I say, I love a mermaid AU with a side of porn and a sprinkling of cosmic horror!

Ambiguous Ambrosia by auspizien (E) ❤️

Another supernatural AU? In my fic recs? Feat. vampire!Sanji, werewolf!Zoro, and my favorite brand of Strawhat found family :)

caught by onceuponamoon (E)

Well if it isn’t my favorite type of Sanji, which is Sanji with some gender! Plus, an added bonus of trans!Zoro! If my favorite brand of lawlu is ace/aro-spec fuckery, then my favorite brand of zosan is gender fuckery :)

Fingers Only by SweetyGreeny (E)

This is just porn lol. In which one thing leads to another, but Sanji is stubborn and Zoro likes to tempt him.

Horrors Not Yet Known by Trixree (E) ❤️

In which Zoro has a nipple piercing, and Sanji cannot handle it. Featuring some of my favorite dynamics—chaotic Strawhat crew, Sanji with Gender, and dumb shit that gets really emotional.

In Your Dreams by VioletHyena (E) ❤️

What can I say, I love an incubus cambion AU! In which Zoro is a sex demon and Sanji is his best source of food :)

Koe by Nadare (E) ❤️

In which learning to cut steel leaves Zoro with an unintended side effect—he can hear the voices of everything, and it’s slowly driving him crazy. Luckily, getting close to a certain cook helps to quiet the voices…

Language of Loss, Language of Love by 8ball (E)

I find fics that explore a world where the Blues all speak different languages absolutely fascinating—all the more when you factor in everything that Sanji is :)

Language of love by averybidisaster (E)

In which Sanji speaks French, and Zoro decides the only reasonable way to learn if Sanji is into men is to secretly learn French, too.

Midnight Sun by brunetta6 and Springtime4Persephone (E) ❤️

I could not tell you why exactly I’m so obsessed with this fic, but I’m full on hyperfixated. This is a very loose Twilight AU—in the sense that it takes place in Forks, Washington and has vampires and werewolves. I love a good supernatural AU and this fic is basically tailor made for me! (Edit: after rereading this fic, I must add that it has lore and world-building galore that makes it incredibly re-readable, in a way that has me bouncing off the walls in anticipation for the sequel. PLEASE read it.)

Predisposed Defiance by auspizien (E)

The obligatory Omegaverse fic. What can I say, I love a soulmate AU!

Quench by auspizien (E) ❤️

Hiii I’m absolutely feral for this fic. Feat. tree-fucker Sanji and my absolute favorite vibe for a work of fiction to have, which is mystical and fantastical with a bonus of Fucked Up.

Tell Me What to Do by rkdlkai (E) ❤️

This one is just…pure filth. But pure filth that’s right up my alley! In which Zoro accidentally eats a devil fruit that forces people to obey his every command, and Sanji takes that in the direction that any logical person would.

The Wreckage of Greed by Balderdashfromafool (E)

This fic is just one step away from my favorite vibe any piece of fiction can have—which, that specific combo of fantasy and mysticism is really hard to hit, so I’ll damn as well take what this fic can give me. In which Sanji is traded away in an arranged marriage to the demon king Zoro, but finds him to be far kinder than originally anticipated…

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Pent Up 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you seek validation through online correspondence with incarcerated men, only for one to lock you down in turn.

Characters: convict/excon!Thor (silverfox)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You can sense the reluctance as Thor drags his finger around the crumbs on his plate. You cannot mirror the sentiment. You are desperate to get away. You wipe your fingers with a napkin and cough. 

“Thanks, uh, again, that was really nice but I should probably go.” You look around evasively. 

“Oh?” He utters flatly. “Should? We could go for a walk? See a movie? I must admit, I didn’t get to see much when I was away. I have much to catch on.” 

You make yourself look at him. Despite his size and strength, even his age, there’s something very puppyish about him. That twinkle in his eye gleams with hopefulness, a stark contrast to your own doom. 

“Well, you know, I gotta get back to the house. My stepdad’s super paranoid and I did say I’d hold down the fort, so... yeah.” 

He nods as his brows arch curiously. 

“They’re off on vacation and he thinks the neighbour’s been dumping grass trimming in the back...” 

“Away? Without you?” Thor wonders. 

You have to keep from visibly cringing. Again, you said too much. Just like online. Just like how you got yourself into this mess. You give a sheepish smile. 

“Well, I have work so... just couldn’t make it work.” 

“But you have the house to yourself?” He asks. 

You stare at him and nod. Shit. 

“If your stepfather worries, would it not be better for you to have some protection? My queen, I must admit, to think of you all alone, it makes me worry,” he taps on the edge of his plate. “All those months in prison, I worried. I could not wait to be out, not only to look upon your beauty in the flesh but to make sure that you are safe.” 

Your breath clogs in your chest. You squirm. Your lies always just compound into a trap. This is why honesty is best yet you know telling him the whole truth won’t help you now. 

“Well, maybe you can walk me home?” You shrug. “Like I said, my stepdad. Super controlling, I don’t think he’d be okay with me having company.” 

He narrows his eyes and sits back, puffing his large chest as he strokes his beard thoughtfully. “Mm, yes, this stepfather of yours, he does sound as controlling as a prison guard. Well, my queen, you needn’t mind the peasants. Your king is here.” 

“Thor, please, it’s fine. I... he’s not that bad and I... I live there so... it’s the least I can do,” you shrug. 

“Not for much longer. You should not live with him if he cannot trust you. If he cannot see you for the treasure you are,” he crosses his arms, his muscles bulging in the flannel. “You deserve a castle of your own.” 

“Right, uh, that’s so sweet but really, I’m tired. I need to go,” you cautiously stand and put your empty mug on the small plate. 

“Yes, my queen, you have blessed me on this happy day, when at last we are together,” he stands and gathers his own dishes before reaching for yours. “Do not trouble yourself. Allow me to serve you as you deserve.” 

You let him take the plate. You watch him go to the counter and leave them there. You hurry for the door. Not quick enough. He’s there to meet you. He opens it in his gentlemanly way and you step out. 

“I have to catch the bus, you know? So you don’t need to come all this way.” 

“The bus? No, my queen, I have a vehicle,” he assures as he catches up to you. You wince as he wraps his arm around you, his hand firmly on your cushy hip.  

You touch his knuckles as you squeak. “Oh.” 

“Forgive me, queen, I cannot help myself,” he growls. “I finally have you near...” he squeezes as he leads you the sidewalk, “and you are softer than I could know.” 

“Please, er,” you look around. “I... not in public.” 

“Yes, my queen,” he recoils, dragging his hand across your back with a huff. “I understand, you would save our love only for us.” 

“Um, sure, yes, exactly,” you agree frantically. 

“This is me,” he points to a big red truck.  

You slow and eye the bright paint. It’s not what you expect. It looks brand new. You eye him warily. He wouldn’t steal on day one? Well, you know his record. He’s done worse. You shiver at the thought. 

He opens the door once more. He helps you up into the lifted truck. You’re dizzy, not just from the height. This whole situation is disorienting. 

You stare through the windshield. Pedestrians trawl by lazily, ignorant to your predicament. If they knew, they’d judge you anyway. Stupid girl. 

You should’ve left it alone. You should have stayed alone. Nope, you just needed to feel special. You needed to let these dirty old criminals tell you the same things they’d say to a forty-year-old. It was never real. Or never should have been. 

“My queen,” he snaps in his seat belt. You glance over at how it stretches over his thick torso. “You must secure yourself.” 

Your eyes flick back and forth. You cough and nod. You click the seat belt in and fight to release the air trapped in your chest. 

“Do you work tomorrow, my love?” He asks as he turns the engine. 

You brace the interior of the door and force the breath through your nose. Your blood is boiling. You can’t think fast enough to lie. Haven't you done enough of that? 

“Nope,” you gulp. 

“Perfect, then I shall plan us a wonderful day,” he proclaims. “And we will be together and happy.” 

“Thor, I... I have chores,” you eke out. That’s not a lie. You told your stepdad you’d take care of the place and you slacked on the vacuuming and laundry. 

“Hm, yes, a very responsible woman. It is how I know you will make a good wife. Well, I could assist--” 

“Wife--” You squeak and curl your fingers around the handle of the door. “Thor.” 

“Yes, well, we will take it one step at a time,” he grins at the road as he steers. Somehow, he seems too small for the gargantuan vehicle. “I’ve not yet kissed you as I’ve longed to. Held you. Worshipped you from head to toe.” A breath rumbles up from his chest and plumes from his nose in a growl. He shifts in the seat. “You cannot know how you’ve saved me, queen. You kept me good. You got me out.” 

You press yourself to your seat and pray for spontaneous combustion. He stops at a light and hums. His large fingers tap the ridges of the wheel. 

“Which way do I go, my queen?” 

You point. Your voice is stuck deep down in your gut. He turns and you blink away the horror. You manage to pluck out a sliver of courage. You use it to guide him to your stepfather’s house. The thought of being away from him is what gets you through. 

He stops at the curb as you declare your arrival. He reaches and grips the seat above your shoulder. You pause as your hand rests on the seat belt. Your heart pounds. Is he going to do something? 

“My queen, I hate to part so soon after waiting so long,” he slips his hand free and strokes your cheek. “But to look upon your beauty, to have you near at all, will soothe me for a time.” 

He cradles your face, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone. His touch alone dwarfs you. Your brain swirls like overcooked soup. You’re going to pass out. 

“I-- thank you, I... that’s-- thanks for the ride but I...” You cautiously look away. 

“Yes, yes, I promised to deliver you unscathed.” He retracts his touch and inhales deeply. 

He undoes his seat belt as he puffs out his reluctance. He gets out and you unbuckle. He opens your door and lifts you out before you can resist. You yelp, once more startled by his easy strength. 

He places you on your feet and you don’t think before you grab him for stability. Your legs are hollow and shaking. The longer he’s around, the more dire, the more real it all is. 

“Allow me to escort you to the door. For safekeeping,” he hooks his arm through yours and guides you up the walk. 

You move on instinct alone. The instinct to get away. You stop at the door and pull away to find your keys. You feel his gaze on you. 

“Before I leave, my queen, a kiss?” He sounds as nervous as you are.  

You look at him, stunned by the vulnerability in his voice. You make a noise and wet the roof of your mouth. Your chest fills with sand. Your lips open and close. 

“Okay?” You utter. 

His cheeks pinken slightly. You stare at him. Why did you say that? 

He smiles and puts his hand on your shoulder as he makes you face him. You quiver as he bends and his other hand comes up under your chin. You squeak as his mouth meets yours. His tongue flicks across your lips but does not delve deeper. 

He parts with a hum. You stare wide-eyed. His tongue glides out to taste his lips. You babble. 

“My queen? Are you unwell?” 

“I never...” you trail off and shake your head. 

You yank your keys free of your bag and face the door. He stays close, “you never kissed a man? Only me?” He wonders. “You saved yourself for me, my queen. I am honoured.” 

You choke and struggle to open the door. Heat encases your body. You push the door inward and it hits the side table just inside. 

“Uh, yeah, er, bye,” you flit through and quickly swing the door shut.  

You lock it and lean into the wood for good measure. You blink and press your back to the door. The smart screen on the side table shows Thor on the doorbell cam. He runs his hand down the door before he goes, his steps heavy. 

You blow out a breath and sink down onto the mat. You sit and stare down the hall as you listen to the engine turn. You stay there until it rumbles off down the street. 

Your daze is broken by the jitter of your phone. You blindly take it out. It’s Andy. Shit. 

You swipe the call away and get up. You leave your shoes by the door and head up to the guest room. You toss your bag on the bed and pace around with your phone. 

Do you call the cops? What did Thor do? You’ve watched those TV shows on stalkers. You’ve seen the horror stories of indifference. Take notes. That’s what they say. What good are notes going to do against a man like that? 

You yipe as your phone shakes again. Andy, leave me alone. You answer, just to get him off your back. 

“Hi,” you answer sharply. 

He sighs. “What did I say about guests?” 

“Huh?” 

“I said none, didn’t I?” He challenges. You blink, confused. 

“What?” You stop and frown at the wall. The door cam. He checks that app incessantly. “No, they just drove me back.” 

“Is that all?” He scoffs. You know he saw it all. You want to throw up. 

“Andy, please, he’s gone--” 

“Bit old for you,” he snorts. 

You shake your head, “I’m an adult.” 

“Could’ve fooled me,” he clucks. “You’re lucky your mom took the kids for a hike. I’m sure she’d be less than impressed to see you doing that.” 

“I...” you shrug. He hates everything you do. 

“I didn’t think you were that kind of girl,” he says. Your stomach knots. What does he mean? “You always were so nice.” 

You sniff, “it won’t happen again.” 

“Hm,” he tisks, “not any of my business. It’s just my house.” 

“I get it. Okay?” 

“Do you? You know exactly what you’re doing with that old man?” He sneers. 

“What do you care?” You blurt out. “You hate me.” 

He tuts again, “I don’t know where you got that from.” 

You wallow in silence. You can’t handle this right now. “Okay, Andy. I’m sorry.” 

“Hm, was that so hard?” He sighs again. “Don’t forget to mop the kitchen.” 

You hold back a heave of your own. How does he always know? You nod as your hand shakes around the phone. Your stepdad is nothing compared to your real problem. 

“Yes, sir.” 

He hums, “don’t be like that.” 

“Okay, Andy, I’ll mop right now.” 

“Good,” he preens victoriously. “And I’ll keep this little secret between us.” 

“Right, er, bye.” 

You hang up before your skin melts off your bones. Something about his tone has your nerves roiling. He always talks down to you. Like you’re stupid. A burden.  

Well, you’re just the baggage your mother brought to the marriage. He’s ready to offload you completely, and it might just happen sooner than he knows. The more you think about it, you almost prefer the criminal to your own stepdad. 

[marybatson]

BILLY BATSON WEEK 2025

It’s that time of the year again! 2025 marks the 85th Anniversary of Billy Batson as Captain Marvel debuting in Whiz Comics #2, the first official cover-dated issue released February 1940.*

A brief history In December of 1939, children at newsstands were picking up a particular issue with the cover of a flying man dressed in red, effortlessly lifting a car overhead. Bill Parker, senior editor at Fawcett Comics during this time, had developed a new kind of superhero: Billy Batson is a young orphan boy who transforms into a powerful champion named Captain Marvel at the drop of the word “SHAZAM!” He fights crime against notable villains together with a memorable cast of heroes he calls “family.”

A few years past their heyday, Fawcett Publications endured troubling legal problems that put their sales in jeopardy, eventually settling their dragging copyright case with National Comics Publications (predecessor of modern-day DC Comics) and putting Captain Marvel to rest indefinitely. The Captain’s return to comics happened in late 1972 under DC Comics, a run which the original artist C.C. Beck had worked on for only a year. Ever since, Billy Batson and his counterpart have appeared in many different iterations in many different comics, one of the only memories still enduring from a time already passed.

NOSTALGIA

The role of an archive is to make nostalgia obsolete. [...] Every comic book page is, like a work of scholarship, an act of recovery, or at times a dream in which nothing is ever lost, as past, present, and future make room for each other and exist in harmony. Studied carefully, a fanzine or a comic book, like Billy’s Historama, might reveal several lifetimes to us, one generation after another of names, faces, and stories. The art of nostalgia is figuring out which one to tell next.

— Captain Marvel and the Art of Nostalgia, Brian Cremins

This year’s overall theme is NOSTALGIA. Take this as you might, for however you interpret nostalgia—perhaps a reflection on your own personal narrative with Billy Batson, or an exploration between him and his own massive history, be it in-universe or with real life pop culture. You might even disregard the day-to-day prompts below and dedicate yourself to nostalgia thematically for the entire week! How you’d like to work with it is up to you.

Day 1 ☆ February 23, 2025 HOLY HISTORAMA

The Historama, similar to a crystal ball, is described as Shazam the Wizard’s “super-television screen,” of which he may use to see the past, present, and future. In later iterations, it presents itself as a book or object that displays any scene through time and, possibly, space. On this day, you might center the Historama itself, or explore any scenes of Billy’s history from any time or place.

Day 2 ☆ February 24, 2025 THE BOY OF ARTHURIAN LEGEND

Bill Parker, when asked to describe his inspiration for Captain Marvel, once said, “Specifically I got it from the Stories of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, stories with which I had been familiar and read as a child.”

At its core, the story of Billy Batson as Captain Marvel was a story about old wizards, spells, myths, and secrets—elements which children center their greatest fantasies and perhaps still carry with them throughout adulthood. Use this day to commemorate Billy Batson as a fulfilled fantasy, maybe as a knight facing dragons in some faraway world or a space-wandering sailor, the wildest childhood dream come true.

Day 3 ☆ February 25, 2025 SWEET HOME FAWCETT

This prompt is simply Fawcett: Fawcett Comics and their previous publications, possibly outside of Captain Marvel and friends, or Fawcett the city as depicted in the DC Comics iterations, home base of Billy and Captain Marvel.

Day 4 ☆ February 26, 2025 RETURN OF THE CHAMPION

Across his storied history, Captain Marvel has faced many setbacks in his journey back to comic book stands: previous lawsuits and settlements, harried DC Comics events, logistical decisions made behind closed doors. However many times he’s put on the back burner, Captain Marvel still manages to return in a triumph. We will see him again in fleeting appearances, celebrated homecomings, maybe a long-awaited reunion...

Day 5 ☆ February 27, 2025 THE WORLD HE LIVES IN

It is of note that, while Fawcett Comics held onto its hero as long as they could for the first few years, the DC Comics universe is where Billy and the Captain have held their home—for over fifty consecutive years. Use this as a day to reflect on Billy’s past DC universe adventures, from teams he’s been on to events he’s partaken in.

Day 6 ☆ February 28, 2025 A MARVELOUS FAMILY

Billy Batson’s not the only one with a candle to blow. Mary Marvel debuted in 1942, while Captain Marvel Junior had appeared much earlier, in 1941. Their contributions to the stories of Captain Marvel have been monumental in immortalizing his place as a beloved hero with weight and history. They are also deeply adored by Billy himself. Have this day to celebrate family, for each Marvel Family member who has added to the menagerie over the years, or to simply center Mary and Freddy and their own achievements.

Day 7 ☆ March 1, 2025 HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BILLY

Happy Birthday Billy Batson! Give him a cake. Give him a balloon. Give him a present. Tell him how much you appreciate him. He is eighty-five years old. He looks timeless! Is the secret the amber from the Sivana suspendium?

This is a free day, open for anything.

How to participate On Tumblr (and elsewhere, if desired), use the hashtags #billybatsonweek and #bb85week simultaneously so that others might see and engage with your work. Late entries are always, always welcome. I’ll be sure to reblog all entries inside the tags for archival reasons, so please don’t hesitate to tag my blog!

The Archive of Our Own story collection is linked here.

On previous weeks Feel free to browse entries from previous years for inspiration, or reuse the old prompts altogether!

2022 Prompts Post / 2022 Entries

2023 Prompts Post / 2023 Entries

2024 Prompts Post / 2024 Entries / AO3 Collection

*FOOTNOTE: Captain Marvel/Billy Batson celebrated his genuine 85th Anniversary December 2024, a date which acknowledges his original on-the-shelves debut in December of 1939. The cover date used in this character celebration week corresponds with what DC Comics used in their 75th Anniversary year count.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 13

Source for pic

Trouble 13 🔞

Word Count: 5343

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Reader in a terror-like state; Dead Animals Mentioned; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: Early update! Are you all happy about this? Did I feel bad about leaving you with a mean cliffhanger? NO! But I managed to write a lot on Monday, when I had the day off work, so here's your reward! I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm thinking the next one will be the epilogue, but I still want to wrap some things up, so I'm not sure if there isn't going to be two more chapters instead of one, we'll see. Also, important WARNING for this chapter: non-consensual touching/kissing and overall descriptions of near-rape. It can be triggering, please be careful when reading, hence the 🔞 for this chapter.

Masterlist

King's fingers dig into your skull before he grips your hair tightly and pulls. You grunt and cry out for Zoro, holding him like he's an anchor, but the pain in your head is splitting. King pulls at your scalp relentlessly while he drags you across the floor, so you instinctively grab your hair to try to ease some of the pain, the sting of tears burning your eyes as your legs thrash. 

You feel Zoro's hands grabbing your thigh, trying to hold you close, but his strength is depleting, and as his fingers slip, he lets go with an animalistic growl of defeat. 

King snarls as he releases your hair and pushes you down until your back hits the hard floor, stealing the remaining breath from your lungs. Your back hurts and you hear the unmistakable crunch of broken glass beneath you. Then, King pins you down, his knees holding your flailing arms in place while he sits over your thighs. You're trapped. 

His hand pushes your cheek against the floor as he turns your face towards Zoro and you hiss from the sting of the glass against your cheek. “Watch!” He growls, spittle flying everywhere. His other hand wipes blood away from his eyes and then he presses your cheek even harder, making you wince. “Watch as your dear cop bleeds to death in front of you.”

You can feel King's rage as if it were waves, spilling slowly and venomously from his body. 

Your eyes lock with Zoro's, and he grits his teeth, his nails scraping against the floor as he struggles to try to get up. There's already a pool of blood beneath him, and you feel a wave of nausea overpowering you. 

“Zoro!” You sob, and he calls out your name. Weakly. So weakly. 

“I’m magnanimous, you know that, Kitten?” King’s laugh thunders around you maniacally. “You've been such a slut for this cop, and I still let you say goodbye!” He leans forward until his nose touches your ear, and his hot, heaving breath against your skin makes you shiver for all the wrong reasons. “And he'll get to watch as I finally claim what's mine.”

And then, with another snarl, King rips your top, leaving your breasts exposed to him, and you scream. 

This can't be real. It can't be.

“Fucker!” You hear Zoro grunt, fury permeating his words as he grits his teeth again, and with a pained, desperate sound, tries to rise. 

“You!” King barks, his face whipping to the side as blood still trails down his temple, and he wipes it furiously. You realise he has at least three broken fingers because of the way they seem crooked, but it's like he’s not even acknowledging the pain. “Fucking hero. You just die quietly.”

Your arms feel numb from the weight he’s pressing upon them. Your chest heaves from exertion, from crying, screaming, praying. But King doesn’t relent. His hands grope, squeeze, and pinch. 

It’s disgusting.

And it hurts on so many levels. 

“Please, please, please… stop. Please…” You mutter, your words piling over one another as you try to appeal to a sense of decency you doubt he possesses. 

“That’s it, Kitten. Beg.” He sticks out his bloodied tongue and swipes it over your nipple. You shiver and sob so hard your throat hurts. Zoro is spewing curses from where he’s standing, but you’ve shut your eyes tightly. You don’t want to look at Zoro when King is doing this. “Beg, beg, beg!” King snarls. 

Then his hand climbs along your neck, and his index finger and thumb pinch your chin, forcing you to turn your head to him. “Look at me.” You shake your head frantically. “No? Still defying me?” You hear the unmistakable jingle of a belt buckle being fiddled with and your whole body feels cold.

No. No. No.

“Stop. Stop. Please!”

“I will fucking kill you!” Zoro shouts, then coughs, and you hear a wet sploch as he spits blood on the ground. 

Just make it all stop. This needs to stop. 

“You will learn your lesson thoroughly.” King promises you.

Then, he moves his left knee to lower his pants, freeing your arm, and you seize the opportunity. Your numb fingers search the floor around your body wrapping tentatively around a shard of glass. You grit your teeth through the pain as you grip it tightly, then, with a sharp intake of breath, you plunge it against King.

You aimed for the neck - the artery - knowing he would bleed out fast: die, faint, anything! 

But your aim fails due to the numbness of your arm.

He’s too big, too tall, too massive. And the shard is insignificant. 

The shard sticks out from his shoulder, and he grunts with the impact. His eyes dart to the side, then back to you. The red in them burns brighter, hotter, and scarier. When a grin starts distorting his face as he rips the shard from his skin as if it were nothing, you don’t know if he’s aroused or angry with your actions. 

“Kitten… Kitten…” He tuts, and you squirm, trying to free yourself now that one of your arms is released from his grasp - as if that alone could make a difference in your escape. “So naughty.”

King grabs your wrist and twists it in an unnatural way, squeezing at the same time. The pain is unlike anything else. It travels up your arm, takes hold of your senses, and pierces your soul. He shatters the bone with sheer strength. 

Your scream seems to go on forever, and tears burn on your swollen and bloodied cheeks. 

You seem to register Zoro cursing louder and calling your name. You hear scuffing and dragging. You feel the rage - a deadly aura rolling out of Zoro - but he can’t reach you. 

He can’t save you.

You’re doomed.

The fight is instantly drained out of you as your arm falls limply by your side. As your chest rises and falls, it fills with helplessness. King wipes the tears away from your cheeks with a mimicry of affection and leans down, taking your unmoving lips in his with a satisfied grunt.

“There. See? All quiet and still now. That’s my good girl.” He fixes your hair, and cups your cheek, stealing another kiss away from the numbness of your mouth. “You’ll learn to love this. I won’t have to hurt you again, love. I’ll take care of you. I’ll fix you up. You’re mine to take care of.”

Tears keep spilling, pain keeps making your arm throb, and your chest feels heavy with dread. As King keeps fidgeting with his pants, you let your face fall to the side. Locking eyes with Zoro again, you recognize the same desperation reflected in his wide eye. 

He punches the floor repeatedly with a powerless grunt, shaking his head as a stubborn tear mixes with the blood on his face.

He’s crying?

And then, he stops. His eye focuses to his left, and you slowly follow his gaze.

The gun.

Hope begins to claw its way into your chest. But when your eyes fall back on Zoro, you see how much he’s struggling just to keep his head up. He’s so pale. You don’t know if he has the strength to reach it. 

“Eyes on me, Kitten.” And this time, you obey. You don’t want King’s attention to fall on Zoro.

Not now. 

“Yes. That’s it. Focus on me.” You refuse to look down, but you still feel it. The way he’s caressing himself, watching terror flood your eyes with a lewd moan spilling from his split lips. “Beautiful.”   

You can’t help a whimper from escaping your lips as his fingers find the hem of your bottoms. King curses loudly and hisses, likely because of his broken fingers, then doubles his efforts to try and get rid of the pesky fabric. 

“Mine. Mine. Mine.” He chants insanely, his body bending down as he kisses your stomach, making you heave dryly in disgust.

“Please… please…” You implore, the word stumbling over his, repeated to exhaustion. A prayer, a plea, a supplication. 

It falls on deaf ears, and King’s hands finally pull the fabric down to expose you. His breath shudders as you feel his fingers dig into your hips, bruising and hard. “This was always meant to be, love. You and me, Kitten. Us. You’ll never even think of him again.”

King turns his gaze towards Zoro, and your breath hitches as you follow his gaze too. Zoro looks deadly still. He has managed to rise to his knees, but his body is wobbling with the effort. His shirt is crimson with blood, and his breath comes out in violent shakes of his chest. 

You don’t see the gun.

“You hear that, hero?” King chuckles, his fingers pulling your bottoms down further and further as tears keep staining  your cheeks. You still flail your legs weakly, but you have no more strength. No more will. “How does it feel to know you weren’t strong enough to save her? To die knowing she’s mine?”

Zoro’s chest begins heaving in a rhythmic motion, and you sob harder, your lower lip trembling relentlessly. Is this what death looks like? Is this what it feels like? A pit of growing despair? A hollowed chasm of hurt and indifference? 

And then, you hear it: Zoro’s laugh - something he rarely does. It starts slow, and then it crescendos into insanity, mixing with an animalistic roar as he raises his head to face King. There’s blood all over his face and mouth, but his eye… it seems to be glowing red with fury. 

Then, he smirks, raising his hand which is steady, despite all the blood loss, and he points the gun at King. “You talk too much, fucker.” And, without hesitation, he shoots. The gunshot rings like the thunder from the storm outside. 

Loud. 

Unforgiving.

Freeing.

King jerks violently, his hands climbing towards his torso, where blood is pooling. For the first time, he looks surprised - frightened, even. His breath hitches, and he coughs up blood, his eyes widening as his gaze falls on you one last time.

It’s a vision you know you’ll never forget. He looks defeated, but he still watches you like he owns you. He snarls low and gurgles on the blood coming up his throat. His hands inch forward, still trying to grab you - to claim you.

You hear Zoro grunting in pain before he speaks again. “I told you, you don’t get to touch her.”

Another shot.

King’s eyes open wider, his head jerking violently to the side as the bullet enters through his temple, exiting on the other side with a sickening, meaty sound. Blood and brain matter splatter everywhere, and you can hear pieces of his skull hitting the floor with revolting clatters, like the shattering of the finest china. 

And then, as if in slow motion, he collapses on top of you.

Dead. 

You stay frozen for a moment as your brain tries to grasp what just happened.

King’s dead.

He’s dead.

Zoro saved you.

Zoro!

A dry thud catches your attention, and you shift your focus back to Zoro. He has slumped forward and looks very still.

“Zo! Zoro!” You squirm, trying to push the massive form of King away from you. But if he was impossible to move when he was alive, it’s even worse now. A frustrated cry leaves your lips as you shove his limp body with all your might, ignoring the throbbing pain in your shattered wrist. 

With a lot of effort and kicking, you pry yourself away from King, taking an extra second to pull your bottoms up before you kneel down next to Zoro. The first thing you do is press your fingers against the pulse on his neck - you still feel it, soft and irregular.

A deep, shattering sigh escapes your lips as you slowly turn to Zoro to look him in the eye.

“Hey, Trou–” He groans, leaving the rest unsaid as he can’t seem to find the strength to finish the sentence. 

In the distance, you can hear the faint sound of approaching sirens, mingling with the receding thunder and the dwindling rain. 

“Shh, shh, Zoro. I’m fine, you’re fine. We’re going to be fine.” You sob through your words as your hands stick with the blood on them. Pressing the wound, trying to slow the bleeding, you stare into Zoro’s eye. “You saved me, Zo.” A mere whisper.

The sirens approach.

Blood keeps pooling around you.

Zoro hums, his smirk twisting into a grimace. “Always… gettin’… trouble…” You tremble as you chuckle, more from trying to contain the tears than from the gesture. 

“Yeah, I know… paperwork on your desk, right?” Zoro mumbles something and closes his eye. “Zo, come on.” You whimper, dropping your forehead against his and sobbing uncontrollably. “Open your eyes, come on.”

For an agonizing moment, he’s completely still. No breathing, no nothing. You hold your breath too, chin trembling.

And then he lets out a long exhale, opening his eye lazily, trying to refocus on your face. “Only… have… one eye…” He jokes again, and you hear a car screeching to a halt outside before you can answer him. You move your gaze towards the door and find relief when you see Captain Mihawk.

The older man falters for a split second, his eyes assessing the scene in front of him before he approaches you and mimics your earlier gesture by pressing Zoro’s pulse. He exhales in relief before removing his jacket and placing it on your shoulders so you can cover yourself. Then he sets his amber gaze on your eyes. “Keep talking to him. Don’t let him go unconscious. The ambulance was right behind me.”

Mihawk rises and walks towards King, repeating the process of checking for the pulse, and then he turns back to Zoro. “Roronoa, you are in no way dismissed. Stand your ground, Officer.” Zoro grunts and you feel your chest constrict. You can sense the way Mihawk is distressed over Zoro’s condition, so you refocus your efforts.

“Zo, Zo, look at me, come on, you Mosshead.” That seems to do the trick as he opens up his eye again and frowns. “Yeah, you heard me. Focus on me, will you?”

He tries. You can see he’s trying. But when he closes his eye, it just seems to be harder and harder to open it back up again. You hear the ambulance stop and the paramedics shouting outside, so you cup Zoro’s cheek and press a kiss to his cold, shivering lips.

“You can’t quit on me Zo. I love you. You hear me? I love you. Stay with me… please!”

You can see him struggling to answer, his lips trembling with the effort, but he can’t muster the strength. And then it all happens at once.

The paramedics rush to your side, and you give them space to work, though your hand still holds Zoro’s. One of the EMTs wants to assess you because there’s so much blood all over you that the poor man thinks you’re dying too. But you push him away, saying you’re fine and refuse to let go of Zoro’s hand.

It’s not until you’re both riding the ambulance to the hospital - your hand clutching Zoro’s so hard it’s already numb - that the worried EMT tries again and frustratedly asks you to please let him assess your wounds. 

“I said I’m fine!” You snap, your voice cracking, showing just how frayed you really feel. “Just… just fix him!” A sob claws at your throat, and you swallow it down, your fingers squeezing tightly. 

Zoro is laid on his stomach as the EMTs work on the stab wound on his back. He’s breathing very shallowly through an oxygen mask, and a sheen of sweat makes his forehead glisten. 

“BP’s dropping.” One of the EMTs who’s monitoring Zoro’s condition states and bangs on the window. “Speed it up!” The ambulance picks up its pace, and every jolt, every bump makes Zoro groan and turn paler. You lean down, your forehead touching his again while your shoulders shake violently. 

“Zo… fight! Please. This is not the way you die, hear me?” You can’t stop the whimper that escapes your lips, nor the way your heart hammers incessantly against your chest. 

“ETA to the hospital?” The EMTs talking are mere background noise. All you hear is the faint breaths Zoro’s taking, the slight wheeze every time he inhales, and the heavy grunt every time he exales. “Five minutes?”

“You will die a very old, very grumpy man. None of this bullshit, hear me?” Your hand squeezes his tighter, and you shake again, your shoulders shivering violently.

“That’s five minutes too many, step on it. Ma’am?”

“You stay right here with me, Zo. I selfishly want all of your years. Don’t quit on me, Mosshead!”

“Ma’am!”

You don’t answer, don’t even look. You’re laser-focused on Zoro’s pained expression and barely register when someone drapes a blanket over your shoulders. 

And then you feel it.

A gentle, very light squeeze of your hand. Zoro’s still awake, he’s still fighting.

Time seems to stand still as you strain your ears for any more sound, any other confirmation that he’s still there with you. 

And then time crashes violently, and all at once. 

The ambulance screeches to a stop, and the doors fly open. The EMTs haul Zoro’s gurney out, and you follow blindly, too stubborn to let go of him, too tenacious to focus on yourself. There’s already a team of doctors and nurses waiting by the hospital doors, white coats, medical jargon, the smell of strong disinfectant, it’s all too much.

“Talk to us.” One doctor begins, his voice steady.

“Male, early twenties, stab wound to the back, multiple lacerations, and blunt force trauma likely from a fight. No exit wound - possible organ damage, and massive blood loss. BP’s crashing!” The EMT states, and the doctor nods, you’re all moving inside the hospital, but the sounds are too loud, the colours too bright.

Everything feels surreal. 

“Get him to trauma one and prep for transfusion. Someone page surgery, if he’s bleeding internally, we’re taking him straight in.”

A nurse grabs your arm, and one of the doctors steadies you, making you let go of Zoro’s hand with a gasp and a whine. “Zo!”

“Ma’am?” One of the EMTs stops near the nurse and sighs. 

“She refused treatment on the way, possible shock, multiple traumas and lacerations, her wrist is a mess.” The nurse nods and talks softly to you, steadying your shoulders as you try to follow Zoro’s gurney.

“He’ll be fine, dear. We need to examine you. There’s nothing you can do about him now, he’s in very good hands.”

“No, no, no!” You sob, pushing past her, trying to run to Zoro again. “I can’t leave his side! I can’t, Zo!” 

Suddenly, security comes near you, a big man with an intimidating stride, though kind eyes and smile. He reaches to stop you from following Zoro and the entourage of doctors. “Listen to the nurse, Ma’am.”

“No! I can’t leave him!” You thrash violently, even though you have no idea where you find the strength. The security holds you, and you hear someone say something about sedatives. You keep calling out to Zoro and the last thing you hear before a needle pricks your arm and everything goes black is the scariest thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life.

“We’re losing him!”

And then… darkness.

-*-

You lost track of time.

Lost track of where you are.

But not of what happened. It takes you a full minute, but you get there. As the steady inhales you take slowly dissipate a wave of nausea, you remember everything. King; Zoro; The near-rape; Zoro; The desperation; Zoro; The stabbing, the gunshot, the sirens, the hospital…

Zoro.

“Zoro!” You rise with a jolt and a pained cry. Everything hurts. Your body feels sore and heavy, every cut stings, every bruise throbs, your wrist feels like it’s being crushed by a truck. Yet, what hurts most is your heart. 

“He’s alive.” A gravelly voice jolts you. 

Your face whips to the side faster than the speed of light, and you are met with a stern amber gaze. 

“Captain Mihawk!” How long has the man been seated by your bedside? You have absolutely no idea how much time has passed, but it’s dark outside, so at least an entire day. “Where–”

“It’s classified information. I can’t tell you where he is. But he’s alive, though heavily battered. He’s still asleep.”

Alive… alive! Alive!

You release a gargled sob, your good hand climbing to stop it from turning into an ugly cry in front of Zoro’s captain. 

You inhale quickly and sharply, trying to fend off tears and keep from being an emotional mess, since Mihawk seems bored to death by your display. 

“I called your father. I didn’t disclose too much because I didn’t want to worry him, but he’s on the first flight back. He’ll be home tomorrow.” 

You nod, relief flooding your veins. Shanks is coming back - you missed your dad - and if you noticed the way Mihawk’s voice softened when he spoke of him, you ignore it, feeling like it’s safest if you don’t mention it.

“Home? But our house is–...” Destroyed, filled with blood, a dead body…

Tainted…

“The forensic team finished up during the day, so the cleanup crew should be working now. By the time Red arrives, it will be like nothing happened.” His eyes soften for a fraction of a second, and he sighs. “Visibly, at least.” 

Right. Because emotionally and psychologically, you’re fucked. 

And you haven’t even begun to process it yet. 

“Red?” You can’t let this one pass. Even more so because the rest still feels too traumatic to address. 

Mihawk uncrosses his leg, sets it down, and crosses the other one instead. He never blinks. “I’ve known your father since school days.” Another heavy sigh while his lip curls up in slight discontentment tells you he won’t elaborate on the subject further. “Did you know him? King?”

Just as he mentions him, the pain in your wrist becomes unbearable, and you wince, bringing it closer to your chest as tears start to unwillingly pool in your eyes.

“Yes. He was my ex-fiancé’s bodyguard. Vinsmoke Ichiji, my ex, had many enemies and… fans.” You inhale a shaky breath. “I barely talked to King during the two years he worked for Vinsmoke Enterprises, but he was… obsessed. My phone it–...”

“We collected it for evidence.” Mihawk nods. 

“He… he hurt Rob Lucci and– God, I don’t even know his name, the store clerk of the supermarket by the corner street–...”

“We know. Roronoa connected the dots first, and by the time I went to speak to the clerk, he told me that you had called the supermarket to warn him. He didn’t know your name, but he had seen you with Zoro. When King threatened him to ‘never touch what’s his again’, he too connected the dots. He was just too scared to share that information when we first took his statement.” Mihawk purses his brows. “As soon as he told me that vital information, and since the special squad was heading over, we sped things up and rushed to your house.”

You nod slowly. Once more completely overwhelmed by everything King did. The tears threaten to return and you sniff loudly. Mihawk rises in his chair and sets the furniture back into its rightful place, by the corner of the room, coming back with a tissue in his hand, which he hands to you.

“I’ll take your full statement once you’re recovered. There’s no rush. Besides, I’ll speak with Vinsmoke first to see what type of information he can provide us with. Until then, please rest.”

You nod again, wiping your tears and nose. All you really want to do is see Zoro.

“Are you sure you can’t tell me where Zoro is? I–... Please?” Gripping the sheets with your good hand, you feel your chest constrict. You can’t spend another second away from him. 

“No. It’s completely classified information.” Mihawk heads towards the door and opens it. “I can’t tell you he’s in recovery room 3, down the next hallway, third door to the right. It’s classified, stop asking.”

You grin, the smile so foreign on your cut lips that it almost hurts. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Mihawk’s brow raises, and your grin widens. “Rest, child. You need it.”

-*-

You managed to peek at the time, and it’s nearly four in the morning. Twenty-four hours have passed since this nightmare came to its conclusion. It still feels so surreal to know your stalker is dead. That he’s not going to text you anymore; that he’s not going to hunt you, control you, punish you…

But all you want right now, all you need, is Zoro…

Your feet are bare as they pitter-patter down the next hallway and take you to the third door on the right. You’re lucky no nurse saw you or heard you, because you had to rip the IV needle from your arm, you’re still dizzy from being heavily sedated, and you’re pretty sure any nurse would have scolded you and dragged you back right away.

You don’t quite know what to expect as you push open the heavy green door and enter the dimly lit room, but whatever it is, it wasn’t this.

Zoro looks so unlike his usual self. His torso is heavily bandaged, there’s a small tube coming out of his nose - likely to help him breathe - an IV line in his arm, and all sorts of equipment set on his chest and finger to keep track of his vitals. 

He looks so frail.

So unlike the strong, unshakable Zoro who protects you and keeps all harm away. 

The small click of the door closing behind you disrupts the steady beeps of the monitors, and you bite your lower lip to contain your sobs as you walk towards him. 

“Hi…” You whisper softly, maybe hoping that he hears you. He doesn’t stir, so you swallow down the rest of everything you have to say to him. You want to thank him, you want him to know how much he means to you, but you also want to call him careless and reckless. Maybe not all in that order, though. 

With a longing sigh, you find a chair by the corner of the room and drag it towards the bedside. With your uninjured hand, you grab Zoro’s - it’s freezing - and just stare at his face. His brows are scrunched, even though he’s heavily sedated, but the beeping on the monitor seems steady and his chest rises and falls regularly.

He’s alive.

He made it.

He saved you.

“Thank you.” You know he doesn’t hear you, but the words burn so deep on your tongue that you need to release them. Then, you lay your forehead against his hand and hope he wakes up soon. You need to hear his voice. 

-*-

Time is so relative. It seems you were asleep forever, a dreamless, drug-induced sleep, but when you blink slowly, chasing away the drowsiness, the room is still dark, so you couldn’t have been out for too long.

You inhale deeply, ignoring the pain in your back from the small cuts of glass from the table; the sharp sting of the still-fresh bite mark; the constant throbbing of your wrist, yet– there’s something you can’t ignore: a steady thread of fingers through your hair.

Zoro!

With urgency in your movements, you raise your head, eyes already opened wide as they meet his soft gaze. 

“Zo…”

“Hey there, Troublemaker…” He grunts and smirks. “This time, you really made some trouble, huh?”

A choked wail leaves your lips as you scramble to get up and wrap your arms around him. For a second, it's bliss. 

Then it’s pain.

“Ouch!” You both wince at the same time as you disentangle away from him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You start babbling, and he chuckles softly.

“Missed you too, Trouble.” You can’t help but notice the roughness of his voice and how breathless he sounds. 

“I thought I was going to lose you!” You can’t stop the stubborn tears, nor do you really care about stopping them. You want to press closer to Zoro, to never let him go, but you’ve just learned that you have to be careful. Instead, you grip his hand tightly. 

“I thought the same about you.” Zoro tries to raise his hand, but his strength fails him, so you lift it and bring it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss on his knuckles. “When I woke up and you were gone…” Zoro snarls softly. “We’re still going to have to talk about that stunt you pulled.”

“Later.” You dismiss him, not caring about being scolded.

“Later.” He agrees, too tired to argue with you. “C’mere.” He lets go of your hand and scoots softly to the side, taking care not to strain his wounds.

“No!” You protest, though feebly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He sighs. “Here.” Then he pats the side of the bed softly. “C’mere.” He talks as if he’s scolding a small child, and frankly, you don’t have it in you to protest. You need to feel him against you, to know he’s real and alive and breathing. So you climb the bed, taking care not to strain your injured arm and wincing as everything hurts. 

Zoro grunts as the mattress dips but hums in agreement when you nestle close to him, your foreheads almost touching. “Better.” He mutters with a long, relieved exhale. 

Then he pulls you a bit closer by placing his hand on your waist. You grin and brush your nose against his. “Softie.”

“Shut up.” He scolds. Then you feel him chuckle even before he curves his lips to release the sound. “I heard you, you know?”

“Hmm?”

“You said you love me.”

Your breath hitches as you feel your neck burning from embarrassment. “You were half-dead, what do you know?”

“I know what I heard.” He counters, and you press your fingers against his chest, softly. 

“No, you don’t.”

Zoro’s hand moves slowly but surely, when he raises your chin so you can look at his eye. “Lie to me one more time, Trouble.” You almost melt. God, you do love him. Your blush and soft smile are answer enough. “That’s what I thought.”

Then he presses his lips softly against yours. Just a small peck, a reminder, a promise for more. 

“Fine.” You admit in a barely-there whisper when you break apart. “I do love you.”

His eye softens like you’ve never seen it do before, all the usual harshness being replaced by something sweet, just for you. 

“Good.” He pecks you one more time. “Because I love you too.”

The blush on your cheeks spreads, but so does the warmth in your chest as you bury your head against the crook of his neck. “Idiot. You just wanted me to say it first.”

You don’t have to look at him to know he has a smug smirk on his lips. “Yeah, I did. Especially because I’ve loved you since I was a horny teenager.” You can’t stop a heartfelt laugh from escaping your lips. “I think I loved you more than swords back then, and that’s saying something.”

You laugh again, feeling so much relief from this interaction. It’s normal. It’s back to how things were before King broke you. It’s you and Zoro. Real, steady, familiar.

“It’s not a competition, you bonehead.”

He chuckles and snuggles closer, exhaustion and drugs getting the best of him as his eye droops slowly. “Tch. If it was, I’d have won.”

You let out another breathless laugh as you feel him drift off, a smug smile still pressing his lips.

It’s over.

The nightmare’s over. 

Finally.

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|Chapter 14|

[thatnonameuser]

The Red King holds a Bleeding Head

A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist

Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 3.

Apparently, what parts of the conversation you missed before running all the way here was that you missed the first bell and were late. So after running, being dragged, all the way here, you'd gone straight to class. 

Thankfully, Ace’s collar problem wasn’t a class problem, thanks to all the classes so far being theory.

With that problem out of the way let's get back to you.

If you planned on learning today, that plan went out the window. Not only where you still repeating what Cater had said to you earlier. Being ousted for being a darling would put you in such great danger, so the fact he figured it out in the hour you spent with him this morning was very much not good.

It also got your desk hit with Professor Crewel's riding crop/wand? for not paying attention in class. Speaking of, Crewel had been the one to rat you out to Crowley so you weren't expecting him to be kind to you, but unlike the brutal berating he gave Ace for making a sarcastic quip in the middle of his lecture, he'd given you a stern look and nothing else.

You just hope that it was fluke, because you don't want to think about the idea if he's in love with you too. Wait, is it possible for a yandere to love platonically, you'll have to research that.

If you can even do that, to begin with. Because the textbooks that you received aren't the right ones. Why? Because they're missing complete pages worth of information.

How do you know?

Because you compared it to Ace's.

There was a love potion spell that would be taught the first years next semester, powerful, dangerous and it could if used correctly sever cognitive thought from the darling for a period of a day, and replace it with false love.

Your copy of the same Potionology textbook didn't have that. Or any of the other potions that could do the same thing. In magical history, the ancient tactics used by yanderes were wiped clean from your copy, when they were present in Deuce's own.

What's worse is that this was done on purpose. How do you know that? Because you pointed it out.

At the end of Potionology, you'd gone to the Professor textbook in hand in search of an explanation.

"Excuse me, Professor Crewel?"

"Pup, it is Master Crewel." You were not calling him that, "How can help you?"

"Um, something's wrong with my textbook? It's missing a lot of pages." He taken it from you and flipped through it. And then set back in your hands.

"There is nothing wrong with this pup. It has everything you need in it." He'd said if he hadn't lied clean through his teeth.

"B-but I checked with one of the other textbooks, dozens of pages on potion recipes are missing?!" You'd argued.

"Pup, you are referring to the textbooks we give the yandere students. By law, I'm required to give you this one." What?!, was what you thought in anger.

"W-What law?" You asked, you were absolutely dumbstruck at his response. You were getting really tired of being left in the dark.

"Darling students are not allowed to readily access any knowledge about what their future yanderes will use against them, regardless of purpose." That was what came out of his mouth, he hadn't seen anything wrong with it.

It wasn't just that either. The same thing happened with your Magical History book when you asked Professor Trein. And you got some more bad news.

The library, your saving grace, wasn't allowed to give you any of the books they'd given you last time. No more information that could help you. You couldn't even use the textbooks Grim would get, as they were being kept in the classrooms rather than in Ramshackle. The jury was still out on your 'The Art of Ensnaring Hearts' class about whether or not you could even attend those in the future. Was this all done to keep you from learning about what the Yanderes know, to keep you from knowing how to save yourself?

Phys Ed, was the only class you could actually do without someone putting you at a disadvantage. It may not have been your favorite class, but considering you might need to run away from a yandere in the future, you ran as fast as you could.

And now your legs hurt real bad. You weren't the most athletic person but Coach Vargas really worked you over.

Eventually, after a really rough morning, break time rolled around.

"Let's see, our next class is...."

"This so-called magic academy feels a lot like a lame, ordinary school." Ace complains. You disagree, normal schools don't usually teach students how to make love spells. You hope at least. Do non-magic schools teach similar yandere stuff? "It's not exactly what I expected, but at least this collar won't be much of a problem after all."

"You with me on that, Grim? ....Hm?" Grim's silence hadn't struck you as weird until Ace said that. Your loudmouth, tuna-loving cat monster hadn't thrown up a complaint since you left your last class.

"Grim?" You search for Grim among the legs of traveling students but you can't find him. A bad feeling sinks into your stomach. Ace and Deuce couldn't do it. They were right next to you the whole time, so what happened to him?! Did he get-

"Oh! Look out the window! i just saw a ball of fur running across the yard!" Deuce exclaims. You transition the fear of his imminent demise to anger for his abandonment of you.

"Where!?" You nearly collide with the window in your haste, as Deuce points him out down below. A small grey blur races quickly across the courtyard, "He's cutting class!" The Headmaster's going to be furious. And the LAST thing you need is being kicked out into a world where MURDER IS OK!!!

"Boy, that guy is not a fast learner." Yeah, Deuce. Clearly!! He just left you alone in a yandere school! You're definitely withholding his tuna for this.

"Not a good look to lose your only student in your first week as a prefect. Want some help catching him?"

"YES!" You yell, not caring about the future implications. Two IOU's in one day is not gonna be good for you in the future. But right now, your present is on the line! "Please just help me!"

You don't know what you looked like when you said that, but considering how the both of them blushed, you'll have to worry about that later.

Right now, you need to get Grim, preferably before he burns something down.

And so you began the chase of Grim through the courtyard. With your legs still burned from the exhaustion of Coach Vargas' training, you could barely keep up with Ace and Deuce and nearly collapsed once on the way.

But thankfully, the fear and rage from earlier turned into adrenaline that propelled you forward.

And propel you it did, into a person.

You had been a few paces behind Ace and Deuce, but you were far enough to lose sight of them as they turned a corner into the courtyard.

So you hadn't seen the person you ran into, but inertia wasn't your friend today.

You had expected to hit the floor of the courtyard, concrete or grass, whichever was softer, and braced mentally for impact. Only for an arm to swiftly wrap around your waist.

Fast, so fast that you can't even get a letter out of your mouth in sheer surprise, whoever caught you had slipped an arm round your waist, saving you from your unlucky fall.

And so the charming prince that caught you was...

Blonde, with his hair cut into a mid-length bob. Perched on his head is a brown hat sporting a pale white feather. His green eyes are like a falcon's, sharp and piercing. He smiles down upon you. Your noses are practically an inch away from touching. The way you're positioned is straight out of a romance novel, the male lead saving the clumsy MC from a nasty fall.

The embarrassment of the situation you've found yourself in doesn't escape you as you feel the blood rush to your cheeks. "I-I’m sorry!" You blurt out. Thank the seven that there aren't many people around.

" , . I'm just lucky that I caught you." He's speaking French? But how does.....y’know what, nope not touching that one.

"Yeah, thanks." He still hasn't let you out of his hold, and you'd like it for him to let you go now. "Could you, uh, let me up now."

"Bien sûr, mon cher," he says something in French that you don’t understand, but he does help you to your feet with a flourish. He even spins you for some reason.

OK. Another weird one.

You dust yourself off, "Thanks, sorry again," you say somewhat sheepishly.

The smile your savior has is seemingly unshakable, and the laugh he gives you in reply reflects that, "Non non, ce n'est pas un problème du tout, though chérie, will you not grace me with your name?" He even speaks like all the lovelorn princes in your childhood storybooks, well minus all the French.

"It's _______. Have you seen a grey cat run through here?"

"Oui, filou he went that way," Great, you prepare to turn but he stops you with a hand on your shoulder, "though it is best if you head that way if you wish to find him." He points in a direction very far from where he originally pointed.

One of your eyebrows quirk up in confusion, "How do you know that?" You ask.

"Call it a hunter's intuition. You wouldn’t want to be late for Arithmancy, ______" He says with a smile.

You thank him before running in the direction he told you, and in no time at all, you find Deuce dropping a struggling Grim into a net Ace is holding.

And so the Great Grim was captured.

"Mrrah! I've had it with these boring classes!" He squirms in the net Ace took from one of the grounds men, even with his claws he can't escape the netting.

"Grim, you'll never be a great mage if you don't attend classes!" You scold but Grim doesn't stop complaining.

"Ugh! When did you get all bossy?!" Grim continues his complaning as you cross your arms.

You ignore his pointless pouting. You got all bossy when you found out that a single screw up could either result in you getting attacked by a obsessive lover, or get thrown out of here on your rear end with no one to protect you from the aforementioned obsessive lovers.

That and he trapped you into another  IOU five minutes ago that might bite you in the ass later. You can't afford to get into any trouble. With Crowley, with the teachers, with the other dorm leaders, the other students. And Grim....is also someone you need to keep yourself sane.

"Pout about it all you want, Grim." You remove him from the net, holding him against your hip like he’s a troublesome toddler so he doesn't run away again. You turn to Ace and Deuce, and smile softly, "Thanks, you guys."

Again, that light returns in both their eyes. Ace smiles mischievously and slings his arm over the two of you in a half hug, "Glad to help clean up the mess made by the worst prefect to ever set foot on campus!"

"It wasn't that bad, Ace. Let her go! Like the last time, Deuce pulls Ace's arm off of you. The two glare at each other, as if silently fighting. Unlike Ace, Deuce tends to respect your personal space only ever doing this when Ace gets too touchy or too close. That and he always tries to defend you when Ace or anyone else teases you. Maybe it really is in your best interest to get closer to Deuce.

"Alright you two, we're gonna be late. Our next class is...." Aw man, it's Arithmancy. No wonder Grim ran off. You say such and Ace groans.

At least they can't censor this class, too. A part of you would like it if they did.

"C'mon, let's not get caught 'skipping' class."

On the way back, you wonder about the man you ran into. Now that you thought about it, he never gave you his name. And you gave him yours immediately, damn it!

Still, the likelihood that he was a yandere for you was too unrealistic. Sure, Ace and Deuce might have budding feelings for you, but the likelihood that four different people were all yandere for you was already rare, even for this world.

Besides, you've already met some people with a lot of character today. So maybe he's just a little weird.

Maybe. Hopefully.

Wait, if he didn’t know who you were.....how did he know that your next class was Arithmancy?

"Woo! Lunchtime at last!" You can't mirror the excitement Grim is feeling right now, even if this a refuge from the classroom confusion from earlier. The cafeteria's as full as ever, and you feel different from the last time you entered it.

Last time, you were surrounded by your fellow students and peers. This time, you're surrounded by the human equivalent of sheep among wolves.

You are the ideal prey of everyone in this room, and some of them might already know about that. Cater's words earlier had terrified you and rang back in your head, "Darling~" You hadn't even known him long, so how could he tell? Would everyone around you just know on sight? Maybe they discovered it before you had?

Still, you skipped breakfast for Ace's apology, so you don't really get the luxury of skipping another meal right now. Even if you don't exactly have an appetite. Despite the volume of delicious smelling food, Grim is piling on your tray, and you feel more like puking than eating.

Even so, you don't really have an appetite right now, despite all the good smelling food that Grim's raving about right now. It's fancy, and Grim doesn't even eat half of it but is piling it up all the same. Can cats even eat onions?

"Shh! Dude, inside voices! Where was this energy earlier today?" You nod in agreement with Ace. Your legs already hurt from PE, and now after chasing Grim, they practically burn.

"_____, grab me the grilled chicken! There's only one left! And an omelet, too. And that jelly-filled bread. Just fill your whole tray with 'em!" You struggle to balance the sheer amount of plates and food that Grim piles on one after the other. Seriously, how does one cat demon thing eat so much?!

"Grim, that's enough. Save some for everyone else!" You finally relent, but unfortunately, you made that decision a few seconds too late.

Your hand, already tired from Coach Vargas' class, finally yields, and you lose the grip on the tray and plates Grim's stomach piled up.

Now for the good news and bad news.

The good news is that you managed to save every plate of food Grim haphazardly stacked on your tray. A gew crumbs were lost, but otherwise, you managed to save everything. Which was great because with cheapskate Crowley's micro food budget, you were pretty strapped for cash and didn't want to waste food.

But then there's the bad news.

The bad news is in your haste to stop the mountain of plates from crashing to the ground and bringing more attention to yourself, your shoulder may have collided into the back of the student in front of you.

You were just getting into accidents today, weren’t you?

"Hey! Watch where you're goin'!" The student you were unlucky enough to bump into, and their buddy for some reason, to whirl around in anger.

"I'm so-" You start to apologize only for him to interrupt you.

"M-my carbonara!" Ah, man. Did you ruin someone's lunch? That's-,"You broke the yolk!".......what?

"Whoa, that's messed up! Pokin' the egg is the best part!" Ok, not ruining someone's lunch, he might be a bit sad, but all is o-

"You better make this right, pal!" He grabs you by your tie and you nearly fall with all the food on your tray.

"I-it's just a yolk?" Is all you can say, completely struck dumb. You already knew this world had it's priorities messed up but this had to be the dumbest argument ever made. "I didn't ruin your lunch, you were gonna poke it anyway, so I saved you a step!"

"Yeah, so get your filth hands of my henchman!" Grim backs you up. But the delinquents don't back down.

"I'm gonna need that grilled chicken of yours as compensation." Normally you probably would have let the guy take it. Let Grim learn a lesson of not carrying his own food and move on.

But this was a matter of principle, damn it!

Also you weren't completely sure if darlings were naturally meek, so backing down was not an option here.

"No." You say point blank. The delinquent stupid enough to fight in the middle of a crowded cafeteria balks like you said something incredulous, "What?!"

"You heard me. NO. Go eat your soggy yolk-y carbonara, while I go eat my grilled chicken." After all, that trouble you went to get this you were commandeering that chicken for yourself. Take that, Grim.

"Hey! That's no way to speak to an upperclassman! Catch me outside and I'll teach you some respect!" Alright, so just won't go outside for a few hours, got you there dumbass.

At this point, Deuce must have gone through the lunch line and caught sight of you. They must have heard the foregoing argument because Deuce steps in to play peacemaker, separating the delinquent from your tie and shielding you behind him. "Um, excuse me, sir, but it said int he handbook that fighting with magic was prohibited....."That's a rule?! Sick! Now you won't have to worry about tha-

"Fighting? You got it all wrong. This is just me helpin' an ignorant freshman know their place." Ok, so much for that. Two advance magic pens at hand, and you're forced to shrink behind Deuce and Grim.

"W-wait a second, I don't have any magic. That's an unfair fight." You hate how powerless you feel right now.

"Who care about that!? If I end end up killin' ya, we just gotta call one groundmen." You forgot about the whole 'murder is not bad' part of the school rules. Does that mean no one will intervene? Damn it again!

You can hear Deuce growl at their threat. Withdrawing his own pen, he shouts his signature, and by that you mean only, spell. Grim

For a student that probably knows one spell Deuce puts up a hell of a fight. You wonder where he's getting all the cauldrons from. The two 'upperclassman' must've been flunkies, because there was no way these people would be able to lose so badly and so easily to two people that barely know anything about offensive spells. Your one worry was the mountain of food you were holding would fall. That and hearing Ace grumble about not fighting. For your honour, for your praise, you'd didn't know. At this point, you're starting not to care.

Surprisingly, or not if it didn't, the battle is done and won without the hundreds of students present even hesitating in their respective conversations.

"Whoa, didn't know you had it in you...."

"Look, I'm gonna let you off the hook this time, but only 'cuz I don't want my pasta gettin' cold." Sure and it's not like you 'upperclassman' lost a cat and student who only knows how to summon a cauldron.

"Pffft! I knew you were all talk! You better hope I never see you again!" Grim taunts as if Deuce hadn't done nearly everything. You keep quiet this time, redirecting your silent fury into mocking.

"Whoa! Two upperclassmen being beaten by students who were nearly expelled in the first week. That's kinda sad." You mock as you watch two delinquents shrink back with their figurative tails between their legs, departing with their, hopefully, cold lunch.

"Thanks Deuce," You turn to him and say with a smile, and his earlier anger dissolves into a soft smile. Like you being grateful for his help and protection sucked the rage out of him. You hate that you know it wasn't as wholesome as it was on the tin.

"N-No problem," he stutters, cheeks flushing.

"Yeah, yeah enough of that." Ace grumbles, pulling Deuce away by his arm. His anger hadn't been pacified by Deuce's victory, in fact it worsened. If how deep he's frowning is any indication.

"If you guys are going to fight again, can you help me carry all this to a table?" It's been two days and their near constant warring over you is starting to become normal.

They snap out of it instantaneously, "Sure, Prefect!"

Grim had been bitter when you told him you were taking his grilled chicken as compensation for the mess he got you in. But he eventually relented to stuff his face with all the partially lukewarm food. Speaking of, the food's good if a bit cold.

Hearing Grim rave abut how good his food is makes you chuckle lightly, stroking your fingers back through Grim's fur. He purrs again, and that sense of peace from earlier return. Maybe this morning was just a fluke, and all will be well now.

Mid bite, Grim asks, " So, I saw your guys' dorm, but what are the other ones like?" A part of you wants to know but that's a question for another day. You need to get through today first, and then-

"I'm sure you're familiar with the statues of the Great Seven? Night Raven College has a dorm themed after each one." You choke mid bite on the half-chewed chicken in your mouth. Cater's voice took you by surprise, so much for a peaceful rest of the day. You weren't the only one.

"Bwah! You're that guy from this morning!"

You turn and face him as well as an unfamiliar face. Green hair, glasses and a clover stamp underneath his left eye. The last card suite you were left meet. Another card soldier, now just needed a tyrannical queen.

"You tricked us into paintin' those dumb roses."

"'Tricked' is such an ugly word. Do you think that I wanted to spend MY morning painting roses? It's dorm policy, I'm just following orders."

"And grinning like a fiend all the while..." More than that if what he last said too you was any indication.

"Now, now Deucey. Outside of the dorm, I don't care what rules you follow. Here, I'm just a friendly mentor figure." Like earlier, you feel that he isn't being genuine again. If his dorm is so full of people, why couldn't they help instead of trying to trick you into it. Still, brownie points are brownie points, and they better pay it forward when things get tough.

"Please. Do NOT call me Deucey."

The mystery man laughs, "That's how Cater shows he cares." he finally says. He gives of the air of that one dad friend that prevents the friend group from going up in flames. You feel a small pull at your heartstrings, you're starting to miss your friends back home.

"So, who are you?" You ask.

"Ah, i should introduce myself. The name's Trey. Trey Clover. I'm a junior at Heartslabyul, like Cater here." So you've finally met the three of clubs, or clovers if that's what you call it.

The ace of hearts, deuce of spades, three of clubs and four of diamonds, were ALL Heartslabyul students named after playing cards because this seems comical now. Also, how drunk were their parents to not recognise how ridiculously silly naming your kids after the numbers when their last names, sin Ace, are all card suites was.

Though considering the possibility that one half of their parents were probably being held hostage, you probably shouldn't judged their naming skills.

"And you must be _____, the new prefect from the dump of a-ah, I mean, the 'rustic' dorm." Ramshackle can't seem to stop catching strays, huh?

"Alright, Ramshackle might be a dump, but it's my dump. Can we please stop insulting where I sleep at night!" Your anger receives a few laughs in response. You hope you weren't a cute angry in their eyes. Last thing you need is them looking at you like you were an angry kitten.

Trey's laugh warms you a little, the dad friend energy feels a little safe. You don't feel the lingering worry from earlier, after all what is the likelihood more than three people are in love with you?

"I heard the whole story from Cater. Thanks for looking out for our boys yesterday." You beam, even if you were very, very inconvenienced last night and this morning, it's still nice to be praised. That is until you remember that the one doing it might find someone and spend the rest of their life making them miserable for the sake of love.

"It's no problem," You say regardless.

"I don't recall inviting you to sit with us...." You hear Ace murmur.

Cater slides in and seats himself between you and Ace, "Hey now, we're all from the same dorm, right? Let's try to get along. Here gimme your digits." He hands his phone to you, expecting you to put in your number.

Problem is, "I don't have a smartphone." and you probably wouldn't if you did. But regardless Cater looks at you as if you grew another head.

"For real?! I never thought I'd meet one of you IRL!" His eyes light up with that weird glow again, "I know a place that sells the latest models cheap. How about you and I go on a phone-shopping date?" NO. NO.

"NO!" You accidentally say out loud, way too loud and hurried to be brushed aside as you overestimating your volume. Some heads from nearby tables turn, to you and the others are silent waiting for something? But you don't know what.

You back track trying to amend what you said, " No, Crowley hasn't started giving me allowance yet, so I'm kinda broke. Maybe next time?" Please never ask me that again. Maybe you should join a club so you can say you're busy if he tries to ask you out again.

That glint in Cater's eyes darken, but it doesn't match the teasing look that he has on his face, "What is up with you, _____? You look so tense! It's okay, baby! Relax! Relaaaax!" He squeezes your shoulders in half-massage but it just makes you feel more tense.

Tret comes to your rescue, "Cater. You're freaking out the freshmen. Maybe take it down a notch?"

Cater laughs, still not backing away from how close he is to you, "Sorry! I can get a little extra sometimes. What were we talking about....The dorms, yeah? What fun to mentor new students. Go ahead, A-M-A."

Ant that what you all spent the next fifteen minutes talking about. The dorms and their super important history while completely ignoring the ramifications of that history have on at least half of the population, yourself included. You'd already read up on the seven dorms, but hearing about the crazy strictness of the Dorm Leader of Heartslabyul made you a little uneasy. But still, when you talk to the him maybe things will go well, maybe he's a sweetheart with a non-tolerance policy for the most extreme of rule breakers.

Still, there are so many different types of students with different personalities and different yandere types. You spotted a wolf beastman, two student whose style of dress reminded you vaguely of the Middle East the person you ran into earlier sitting at a table full of Pomefiore students, (you made a mental note to ask about him later) and the most powerful students on campus, of course from Diasomnia.

Cater continues his opinion piece in the unapproachability of that dorm. "The vibe they give off makes it real hard for regular schmucks like us to even approach them."

"It can't be that bad, they may look a little intimidating but otherwise they look like regular old students..." You say, sure one of them looks young enough to be your younger brother or a middle schooler and has the pointed ears of a fae, but they look so normal.

Then again, you were discussing animal-human hybrids and talking paintings earlier, and you're in a world full of yanderes, so what isn't normal and what is?

"And their Dorm Leader is that times a thousand." You crane your neck to the Diasomnia seating area and you don't see any features that would be capable of scaring off a whole school of students, they all look relatively fine.

"There's a little kid in that group!" Not so subtly, like their earlier pointing out of a rather androgenous purple-haired boy in the Pomefiore dining areas, Ace rather loudly points out the younger looking fae.

"Ah, we do get some child prodigies here. But that guy is no kid. He's a junior like us. Name's -"

"Lilia. Lilia Vanrouge."

"Ah!" You yelp rather loudly as midway through your turn back towards the table, only to be face to face with the same face you had just been looking at hanging upside down right in front of you. You nearly fell out of chair in a mix of shock and surprise.

You stammer in shock, "H-how did you-"

"H-he just teleported!" That can happen?! You really need to read more about this place.

Lilia, once standing upside down on the chandelier as if that was completely A-OK, floats down onto your table as if this was as normal as him walking over. He smirks, bending down to meet your eyes, " I understand my apparent age interests you? As this bespectacled fellow accurately noted..." His voice is completely opposite to his appearance, and he talks like a whimsical grandparent than a teenager. "Despite my fresh-faced, boyish good looks, it would be inaccurate to call me a 'child'." Yeah, seriously. Whoa.

"'Fresh-faced' he says." Trey seems to agree with your doubt on the young part.

He smiles and for some reason, you feel unbelievably uncomfortable. it's as if he read you like an open book without words being exchanged. The look in his eyes is unreadable, but it's not like the glint you'd seen in Ace, Deuce and Cater. Either way, it makes you squirm in your seat, "You need not gawk at us from afar. You may feel free to speak with us directly. We are schoolmates, are we not? All of us at Diasomnia House welcome you without reservation." Without reservation, he says and yet the two trailing after him are yet to say a word. And they're staring in silence, but it feels more like glaring. No wonder Diasomnia had the reputation it did.

"And yet, those guys over there aren't exactly rolling out the red carpet in terms of approachability..."

Lilia brushes that aside with a laugh, "Forgive me for appearing above you during your meal." I do hope we can speak again." Why does that part feel directed at you? Maybe you're being paranoid.

As Lilia and his entourage depart, Ace takes the opportunity to whisper to the table about the impossible feat of overhearing their conversation. Which you can agree with how on Earth, or in the Twisted Wonderland, did they hear you from across the room. You weren't even that loud. Ace was right, that was creepy.

"Well....Diasomnia House does have a bit of a reputation for having lots of special students." "Well, special is a word for it...." You say,

Trey explains further, "Some of them are extremely talented at magic. Their Dorm Leader, Malleus Draconia, is considered to be one of the five best mages in the world." Wow. Your decision to stay away from that Dorm was even more justified. How powerful is the top five most powerful.

"Malleus is reeeeeeal bad news. Though I suppose the same could be said of our dear Dorm Leader."

"He can't be that bad...." You whisper, spying a short, red-haired boy with grey eyes walking in this direction. Wait, wasn't that the dorm leader that.....collared...Grim...Oh no. "Hey Ace...?" You whisper.

Ace must not have heard you because he starts his own tirade. "No kidding! He collared me for eating one slice of tart! All his rule obsession is outta control!"

"My 'rule obsession' is 'outta control', is it?" Well, Ace is doomed. Maybe Ramshackle has a tent you can set up outside.

Completely oblivious to the new voice that joined the group, despite the fact everyone else here already has, Ace continues, " You bet it is. Riddle's just a petty tyrant who leans into the whole 'rules' schtick as a pretext to keep everyone under his puny thumb." You sigh, facepalming. Maybe you can get Crowley to buy a strong lock for your door.

Deuce takes one for the group and points out the obvious before Ace can unintentionally piss off the 'tyrant' behind him further. "Ace! Behind you!"

Ace, still not taking the hint, looks behind him and then appropriately freaks out. "Bwah!? Dorm Leader!" The Dorm Leader of Heartslaybul, Riddle Rosehearts (and the Red Queen in this abridged tale) crosses his arms in indignation.

This is not going to go well.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Here I go again

Mamma Mia inspired

I hope you enjoy this, I’m hoping to write it as a pick your own so they’ll each have their own individual stories so you can pick who you want the father to be.

On a quiet island far from the chaos of the Grand Line, you’ve built a peaceful life raising your daughter. But as her wedding approaches, she realizes there’s one thing missing—her father. Determined to find out who he is, she secretly reads your old diary, only to uncover a shocking truth: there are three possible candidates.

Shanks - part 2 part 3

The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting golden light over the small island you called home. Waves lapped gently against the shore as laughter rang from the bustling town square, where preparations for the wedding of the year were well underway. Your daughter, a whirlwind of excitement, had spent the morning running between vendors, making sure every detail was perfect. But now, hidden away in her bedroom, she sat cross-legged on her bed, an old, leather-bound diary resting in her lap.

Your diary.

With hesitant fingers, she traced the worn edges of the cover, feeling a strange mix of nerves and anticipation. She wasn’t proud of snooping, but she had no other choice. Ever since she was little, it had just been the two of you—no father in sight. And now, with her wedding just days away, she wanted to know the truth.

She took a deep breath and flipped to the first page.

Entry 1

It still feels unreal being out on the sea. The first real adventure of my life, and I don’t know whether to laugh or throw up over the side of the ship. This crew is crazy, but in the best way. I’ve never felt more alive. And him… well, he’s trouble. The kind that makes your heart race in ways it shouldn’t.

Entry 7

I shouldn’t like him this much. But when he smiles, it’s like the whole damn ocean stops to listen. The way he carries himself, all confidence and mischief, like nothing can touch him… It’s impossible not to get caught up in the whirlwind that is Shanks.

---

Your daughter’s eyes widened. Shanks? As in Red-Haired Shanks?The legendary pirate? She let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. That couldn’t be right. Could it?

She turned the page.

---

Entry 15

I knew he was reckless, but I didn’t think he’d drag me into it, too. We barely made it out of that fight in one piece. I should be furious at him. I should never speak to him again. But when he looks at me with that cocky grin and those burning eyes, all I can think is—Ace, you absolute idiot, you’re going to be the death of me.

---

She covered her mouth, heart pounding. Portgas D. Ace? Fire Fist Ace? The stories about him were legendary. Was he her father?

Her hands trembled as she turned the page again.

---

Entry 23

He doesn’t talk much. At least, not in the way most people do. But I’ve learned to understand him in other ways. The way he nods when he listens. The way he lingers just a little longer when we say goodbye. The way he fights like the whole world is depending on him. He’s rough around the edges, but there’s something in his eyes—something I can’t walk away from. Zoro might be the most stubborn man I’ve ever met, but when he holds me, it’s the only time I’ve ever felt truly safe.

---

Your daughter gasped, staring at the name. Roronoa Zoro?! The Pirate Hunter turned right-hand man of the future Pirate King?

She shut the diary, hands shaking. Three names. Three impossible names. And no answers.

Her heart pounded as realization set in.

She needed to find them.

And she needed to do it before the wedding.

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE STRATEGY CALL

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. in which the stark racing f1 team talks about the 2025 strategy and beyond

content warnings. written in 3rd person

word count. 1.4k words

notes. with this chapter i wanted to involve a bit of politics and 'realistically' explain why stark racing won't immediately win a wdc (because with the whole set up, it would be possible). f1 are politics and no matter how many drivers say cash is king, connections have sometimes more worth

"welcome, everyone. thank you for tuning in", greets tony with a big smile on his face, spreading his arms as if going in for a hug.

"as you can see, i'm not currently with any departement, i'm doing the finishing touches in my own lab back in new york... since i don't want to drag anyone here to the US for meetings, we will proceed like this until january next year."

"now, i know it will be annoying with dragging your equipement with you and it's also unsafe, since you know... data secrets bla bla- so, in the next few days, each stark racing employee will receive the so called 'tactical intelligence glasses', which you can see me wearing. it's voice activated and can only be used by the one who sets it up, which will be you!" while speaking, tony fiddles with a pencil in his hand and starts walking around in his lab, showcasting it to every viewer.

"to cut things short, you'll receive a tutorial on how to use these glasses and set them up once you receive them. if you ever lose them, don't worry, we can track them. destroying them is pretty hard, but please don't try to make it a challange... our plan is to use them not only during meetings but also during the race, to keep our data from the cameras. with netflix, paparazzi and other cameras from the news, it's easy to steal data that shouldn't be accessible."

"alright then", he ends his ramblings with a clap, "we're going over the interesting part now. let's talk strategy..."

y/n let's her father's voice wash over her, her own glasses perched on her nose and feeding her constant information. in front of her are two holograms, projected by the hologram table in the meeting room she's currently in. the standing figure of her father and the presentation he's currently rattling off, all of it in a glowing blue.

next to her sits kevin, her future teammate, exhausted from the long 24 season but still paying attention. the rest of the room is filled with their team, the race engineers and trainers- each of them having their own glasses on.

to outsiders it looks like they're clowns, but it's a common sight in stark industries. decades ahead of the general public, stark stands for the future. of course they're trying to push it to the outer world, selling hologrammic equipement to both the industry but also private customers, but it's a slow progress.

the marketing team of SI hopes with their public use of the glasses and other devices they'll attract more customers, leaving the age of apple and samsung behind and instead welcoming the age of holograms. powered by starkanium, the production of phones, tablets, computers- anything really, is much cheaper and enviroment friendly than what's currently dominating the market.

shaking her head, y/n focuses on the presentation again. of course she knows it by heart already, she helped writing it, brooding over the strategy with the team ever since the team got announced.

"... the plan is to finish between 5th-3rd on the construction championship. not higher, not lower. we don't want to place higher, because this is our testing season. we will be practically sandbagging from the beginning, not revealing our true power for 2026."

yes... the construction championship. it will bring in money, not that they would need it, but it will justify the expenses they're going to make during the season to prepare for their second one. y/n is under no illusion, if they want, they could go all out and snag at least p2, if not p1. maybe she would even get her world championship- only then for everyone to say she won because she's driving a stark machine and not because of her own skill.

it sounds arrogant, she knows. but y/n believes, no, she doesn't only believe, she knows, she is one of the best in the whole world. if she can go against her father in an iron man suit, who can be only piloted by less than ten people in the world... winning in an f1 car is nothing.

but they've already made enemies for not waiting until 2026 like audi, 'enemies', who have much more pull within the motorsport world than them, simply because they're already established. christian horner is one, followed by toto wolff, the iconic red racing team not far behind.

with they're entry, they didn't make friends on the paddock, so for their first season... they can't be too good. or else their future seasons will be ruined.

it's stupid, to think like this, to think so far ahead, to think of others, in a sport where winning is everything. but it's not. cash and connections influence everything you do, how far you succeed. they have plenty of money, but are practically poor in connections. heck, even haas is better established than them.

they won't be, not after they're done after their first season. they will show the world, what stark racing is truly made of. and y/n will prove, that a woman can win.

"-bought data packs from previous seasons, dating back a whole decade, from mercedes and aston martin. cost a pretty penny, but data is everything. not to mention, after the big leak that happend in the middle of the season, we managed to grab enough data on all teams to calculate 3523 outcomes to this season. points, standings, anything." kevin wheezes at the number, which is followed by several data sheets. he gapes at the calculations, which predict another world championship for max 2064 times. all from the data they managed to collect.

"insane, right?", y/n whispers to kevin, who turns his head to her. his wide eyes make her snicker.

"welcome to stark racing, mate. just you wait until JARVIS and FRIDAY start feeding in new numbers and information." a muttered 'holy shit' is the only answer she gets and y/n has to snicker again. toto wolff once said something about formula one being war planning... well, he should know that stark industries and it's most brilliant minds know everything about war. be it on the market, by income or an actual alien invasion.

"we want to achieve at least one win, be it in a proper race or sprint, three podiums per driver and at least two fastest laps. and it will be possible", her father continues, pointing at a hologram of their car. it spins lazily in a circle, showing off it's aeorodynamic curves.

"this car is faster than the rb19, goes on par with the rb20. we don't know the upgrades from red bull, but another year and we can pretty much predict their stats for 2026. newey is predictable, all his upgrades point towards the perfection of the car, he focuses on what to make better and not invent something completely new. and if he does, he takes ages to prove it's better than what they had before. newey is brilliant, but he's no stark." there it is again, the facts of their rivals, taken apart and put back together to summerize their data in a few simple words.

"so, our motto for this season is testing, collecting data and improving for the next season. we're sandbagging, we're restricting ourselves. so if we ever do bad... we all know we could do much better. the engineering team will send first comparisons between the SR-1 and SR-2 out next week, y/n has already tested both cars in the sim, so we will have some data to read off."

"so, with that, we're pretty much done. thank you everyone for listening, i know for some it's very early right now, so if you have to read over the spark notes- JARVIS has put a summary of the most important information together, you'll receive the mail right after this converence. thank you again and welcome to stark racing, everyone!" claps fill the room and y/n takes off her glasses. it's exhausting to play mindgames like this, to calculate the desired outcome, but it will all come together.

hopefully, with her as a world champion, with the bold stark name on her back.

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ARKHAM MAID 2024

[viperixsworld]

Born to die

━━ Benjicot Blackwood x oc

Chapther one : the riverwoman

Year 126 A.C.

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Sometimes, Lucrezcia thought to herself how easy it would be to escape. The Arbor was an island wonderfully connected to practically the entire world known to man. Volantis seemed like a good destination, all she needed was a ship, of which she had thousands at her disposal.

But there were several factors that deprived her of such a plan. First, her father was as tenacious as she was, and would find her and drag her back so that he could marry her off to whomever he offered.

The second, and at that moment more important, Lucreczia was sitting in a carriage, on her way to her first audience with her possible future husband. Her father, sitting opposite her, seemed to be trying to ignore her by any means possible. Lucrezcia, for her part, tried to annoy him, making noises with her rings.

"Could you, my child, stop being a nuisance for a few moments?"

The girls stopped her movements, to offer a sarcastic smile to her father.

"Oh, excuse me dearest father, it must be pre-marital nerves".

"Are you always so unbearable?"

I have someone to look like

But she preferred to swallow her words. Lunch with Lord Tarly's niece had been most victorious for her lord father. Julianna Tarly was a slender and tremendously young girl, no older than Lucrezcia herself. The young Redwyne found her stepmother-to-be irritating and exceedingly sordid. A childish girl who could compete in immaturity with her nearly five-year-old sister.

The irony of the gods, he was getting rid of a daughter to return to a wife who might be confused by one of his offspring.

Luckily for her, she would not have to put up with the new Lady of the Arbor, as she would be married by then in any corner of the fucking continent.

Honeyholt was the home of the Beesbury house, sworn to the Hightowers. With their lord at King's Landing as part of King Viserys Targaryen's council, it was Lady Beesbury, who had kindly offered to host the court. Not out of charity, of course, but out of business with one of the richest houses in all of Westeros. Lucrezcia was just a pawn, just like in her father's chessboard.

The Reach was undoubtedly a beautiful place, filled with flowers of all kinds and palaces that looked like something out of a book about knights in shining armour. Lady Beesbury greeted them at the entrance, an elderly, petite woman with an unbridled taste for pie and tartlets. Lucrezcia tried to smile and look delighted at the auction of her person to a bunch of usurious lords, as the old woman led her into the garden where the tea was to be held.

They say that you are not aware of your destiny until it is staring you in the face.

That's how Lucrezcia felt when she set foot in the garden, becoming the centre of everyone's attention. It seemed that they had deliberately arrived early, to make her entrance more conspicuous. Pairs of eyes scrutinised her as if she were one of the cakes on the table.

So far, the trip had served to psych her up, but the possibility that her future husband might be among these men made her want to vomit horribly.

"Cheer up, dear, they're watching you," her father's voice echoed behind her.

Fuck off

A strange tingling settled in her spine. She approached the small table with the cakes, while her father stood talking to some men in pompous clothes.

Lucrezcia contemplated that apart from herself, the only other woman at the soiree was the elderly Lady Beesbury (except for the maids who went to and fro). The rest were men. Tall, thin, short, fat, ornately dressed, full of jewels. With the balance on the side of men of her father's generation rather than her own.

She wondered if her mother suffered such a thing, being from the Iron Islands, they probably put her on a ship straight to the Arbor in a wedding dress and called it a day.

She didn't know if it was worse than what she was going through at that moment.

"My lady"

Lucrezcia gobbled down the raspberry pastry in her hand before turning to the person who spoke to her.

A short, chubby man with a terrible grey moustache and little hair in the centre of his head, he took the hand that previously held a pastry and planted a kiss on the back of her hand.

"My name is Lord Daryl Florent"

She watched him wordlessly, chewing the pastry exaggeratedly. Lord Florent began to talk about his life, still holding her hand. When the man stopped talking, seeing that the girl did not answer, he said to her.

"You would be prettier if you smiled."

A spark lit up the girl's eyes. She tugged at the corners of her mouth, preparing a flamboyant smile. A smile that showed all her teeth covered in the raspberry filling of the pastry.

Lord Florent made no secret of his displeasure as he let go of the young woman's hand and walked indignantly towards another group of men watching the interaction.

Preach the word, fatty.

The afternoon was summed up in a series of frustrated attempts by different men to approach her in an attempt to woo her. When the man was old to begin with, her tactic was to be disgusting, play with food and make comments that implied she was a woman with ideas.

When they tried to elicit information about her interests, Lucrezcia didn't bother to lie. She liked to hunt, enjoyed wine and ale (no surprise, being the daughter of the leading exporter of ale in all of Westeros), could barely do needlework, and was very interested in the political situation in the realm.

Most did not endure up to that point in the conversation, but the few who did, asked the golden question.

"And you are an avid reader from what your father says. What is the last book you read, my lady?"

"A caution for young girls, my lord"

That used to be the final strike.

Who wants a wife who reads about sex with the intention of self-pleasure rather than to give heirs?

With the many horrified looks from the gentlemen, Luther could only resist the urge to slap his daughter in the middle of the garden.

Night fell upon them, and Lady Beesbury invited them into Honeyholt's great hall. Lucrezcia watched as less than half of the large crowd of men who had been there at the beginning of the evening remained. It was clear that the great hall table was almost empty, apart from Lady Beesbury, her father, herself and some nine suitors.

The food was extremely sweet for her taste. The girl chewed in silence as her lord father spoke to the few remaining men.

Unfortunately for her, most of them were old men who had not succumbed to her tactics. She was very bored. The dress of salmon-coloured fabric was particularly itchy, the belt of thick golden thread cut off her circulation. The hairstyle that Nyssa had done for her this morning was pulling at her brain cells.

The kingdom was in the springtime, according to the maesters. The Reach's crops were thriving, but Lucrezcia wished at the moment that everything would freeze over. At the very least, for a breeze to blow. She felt like she was in the middle of Dorne's Red Desert.

In those moments of desperation, she considered faking a fainting spell. She could pour some wine over herself, lie on the floor and hope that her father would get fed up with this fanfare and decide to return to his island.

Oh, her island. Lucrezcia had always dreamed of leaving it, but now she missed it more than anything. The walks through the vineyards, going to the Ryamsport harbour market to watch the seafarers' festivals, skinny-dipping on the beach with Nyssa at an hour her father hadn't allowed.

Even her palace on the cliffs of the Arbor, right by Starfish Harbor. The library's stained glass windows, its chambers overlooking the sea, the passageways to the kitchens and stables where she could go out with her pack of hounds.

How she missed her puppies.

She hoped to transport them to wherever she was getting married.

The last litter had been of 8 puppies, 5 of which survived. Now with the perfect age and training for a good hunt. They were fast and strong, they could tear a fox apart in a few seconds.

Surely their dogs were more loyal than all these men sitting at the table. She wondered if she could use them as bait for her little puppies. As a form of training.

Nah, they'd be too easy prey.

In her reverie, Lucrezcia ignored the doors to the great hall and it was not until Lady Beesbury rose from her seat at the end of the table to greet the new visitors.

"My Lady Blackwood, what a surprise, I was not expecting you yet."

That made the Redwyne girl look up from her plate of gooseberry duck. The sight stunned her.

A tall, slender but athletic woman with a cascade of obsidian-black hair curling like tornadoes. Behind her, six men, all somewhat rough-looking, dressed in the same clothes as her. Riding clothes, black and crimson.

The men looked hungry, staring at the bloody roast duck as if they hadn't eaten in days. They reminded her of her dogs, waiting attentively at the woman's command.

"I hope I have not interrupted with our entry" said the woman "We have a long drive to Oldtown and Lord Beesbury had offered us accommodation for the night".

Lady Beesbury did not look very pleased, but she could do nothing against her husband's orders.

"Well... I guess you may sit down, please, please, you must be starving" said the old lady.

Lucrezcia sent an amused glance at her father, who looked tense but intrigued as Lady Blackwood's men swept through the feast.

"And tell me, Lady Blackwood. What is your business so far from the Riverlands?" asked her father, sipping from his wine glass.

"Our maester fell ill a couple of moons ago. We were travelling to the Citadel to request reinforcements at Raventree Hall. My Lord Brother sent me on his behalf".

"I understand" said her father.

As the rivermen gulped, Alyssane looked at her father.

"And what are you doing, Lord...?"

"Lord Redwyne" interrupted Lady Beesbury "Lord Redwyne of the Arbor and his daughter, Lady Lucrezcia, are here as my guests, as are all these distinguished gentlemen".

Black Aly surveyed the table, the distinguished gentlemen looking rather uncomfortable at the presence of her men. She then looked at the girl in the salmon-coloured dress. Lucrezcia felt a little self-conscious, but smiled at the new guest. She smiled back.

The woman from the Riverlands could not be more than ten years older than her. And she was not stupid. The picture was so obvious that asking the question was totally unnecessary.

The dinner went as smoothly as possible. With the suitors gradually withdrawing as Lucrezcia's father and Lady Alyssane had an arduous conversation about the politics and succession of the realm, with the recent birth of Prince Joffrey.

Lucrezcia learned there that the Blackwoods were a Riverlands family of considerable prestige, the only one in their lands to practice the religion of the Old Gods. Lord Luther had long sought to expand into the interior of the continent, exporting mostly to coastal cities.

Any occasion is good for business, Lucrezcia supposed.

Her maid, Nyssa, was quick to come and fetch her as the hour of the wolf approached. As did Lady Beesbury.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Lucrezcia," Alyssane said goodbye. "I had hoped that tomorrow we might be able to breakfast together in the gardens, if Lady Beesbury sees fit for your... matchmaking".

The old woman didn't seem to agree, but after the disaster with her first twenty suitors, she figured that giving the girl the morning off would be a good idea.

"The pleasure was all mine, Lady Alyssane," said the girl before following Lady Beesbury and Nyssa to her chambers.

Once the girl was out, only Lord Luther, Black Aly and an empty jug of wine were left in the hall.

"She is a beautiful girl, you are very lucky, Lord Redwyne," congratulated the woman.

Luther wanted to laugh in her face. Yes, his third daughter was beautiful, a light brown-haired beauty with huge green eyes, a fine face and a pretty composition.

"She'd make an ideal wife, if she wasn't a problem with legs." The man began as Lady Alyssane listened " The girl is the smartest of my four daughters, and the most ambitious. Nine septas she has cost me in less than four years, they say she is incorrigible" the man massaged his temple "I had hoped a husband would soothe her spirit" he lamented.

In his deepest dreams, Luther regretted that Lucrezcia was not a man. She would have been the perfect heir, but sadly the laws and her own opinions deprived her of that status.

Luther had to marry off his daughter. That was the custom and the law.

Black Aly listened with attention, scheming in her own mind.

Lucrezcia reminded her of herself, a young woman who just wanted her place in the world. Though Aly had been luckier in the family, from what she was hearing. While her father described his third with a mixture of resentment and pride, as she noticed, the girl did not remind him only of her.

A highly intelligent, cool-headed young noble who enjoyed risk but knew how to keep her composure. She couldn't help but compare her to her own nephew.

Benjicot Blackwood had just turned six and ten, a year younger than Lucrezcia. The boy was proper and somewhat shy among his own kind, but lately quarrels with the Brackens had him in a mess, hanging out with his grooms at the tavern, brawling and neglecting his lessons.

He needed to wise up.

He needed a new goal.

He needed a wife. Her brother, and father of the boy, Lord Samwell Blackwood, had tried to bring up the subject several times, perhaps this was the right occasion.

"I believe, my lord, that I can offer clarity on our problems," the woman commented. "My own nephew, Benjicot Blackwood, future Lord Blackwood and heir to Raventree Hall, may stand as a suitor for your daughter," she explained.

Luther seemed to sober up suddenly. It was a good way to make contacts with the Riverlands, as well as sending his daughter far away.

"How much do you want for her?"

He knew it wasn't smart to send it to the first person who would offer. But she had been on the marriage market for years and nothing. It was a golden opportunity, both for him and for Blackwood.

"I shall write to my brother first thing tomorrow morning. He will discuss with you the details of the dowry, the wedding and so on".

"As tempting as it sounds, I know my daughter, she is capable of galloping away if I promise her to a complete stranger who has never seen her life".

"And for that, my lord" Black Aly leaned her elbows on the table to approach the lord in front of her and say "She'll think it's her idea".

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

tag list: @erysione @asteria33 @shifter-101 @drwho-ess

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ³

𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞...

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a ghost from your past makes a surprise appearance, dragging forth all the regrets and wishes you'd spent years trying to drown. and yet, some strange string of Fate keeps you and the future king of the pirates intertwined, for better or for worse.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!luffy x gn!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.6k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: use of Y/N, gn reader, ANGST, alcohol, an existential crisis probably

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬: the 1 (long pond), i want to live, son of nyx

series masterlist

If someone asked you how many years you’d been a marine, your answer would be uhm, well, less than five, because the actual number was lost to you. But you knew it’d been less than five. Being with the marines for any longer was a thought that shot nausea straight to your gut.

However long it’d been, things had reached a comfortable norm. You rarely saw Koby those days. Back when you were stationed on the same ship, you and he had grown close, finding something familiar in the soul of the other. Now Koby was a captain, you were just under him in rank as a commander, and the two of you were under different commands. 

You rarely noticed when a day passed anymore. It was all a numbing cycle of chores, reports, and arrests—repeat. Your cohorts had taken to a game they called Make-Y/N-Crack, in which they did everything in their power to draw any sort of reaction from you.

No one had won so far, your deadpan too seeped into your whole being that you’d near forgotten how to smile.

Your main indicator of a passage of time was the wear and tear of Luffy’s wanted poster, one of his very first, and certainly not his last. It was faded in some places and torn in a corner, but you held it close to you wherever you went, including the island your ship was stopped at for supplies. 

Given that the ship would be there for a few days, you and your fellows had one night to yourselves to roam the town and do as you pleased. 

“Commander—”

“We’re off duty, Nia. Call me my name,” you said evenly, cutting off the soldier girl. Nia burned bright red, mouth snapping shut. You sighed. “What do you need?”

“Well, I was just wondering why you’re going that way?” she asked, jutting her chin at the side street you’d been headed toward when she called you back. Behind Nia, a rowdy crowd of fellow marines waited for their friend to join, each casting you a contemplative kind of glower. “We’re all headed to the bar, if you wanted to come?”

They all hated you, for reasons you didn't bother to fathom. All except Nia, who was possibly too gentle to be a commissioned marine, in your opinion. “I’m fine. I know where I’m going.”

She nodded once and turned tail, jogging after her friends who nudged her shoulder with a tease you didn’t catch. You stood for a moment and watched them go; you watched their easy smiles and close camaraderie, and you missed that.

Koby flourished in this line of work, setting out everyday to make this world better. You felt you should be doing the same—that you were doing the same—but it all felt so useless. So mundane. Worthless.

You had yet to cross paths with the pirate Monkey D. Luffy. It hadn't yet been a decade, but what if ten years did pass? What then? Would you continue as you are, mindlessly walking a path you’d carved for yourself?

“I need a drink,” you muttered, turning back down the dimly lit street. 

You were somewhat familiar with the town, having been here once before around a year ago. Koby had been with you then, that being one of your last weeks together before he was promoted and moved to a different ship.

It was your intention to find the cozy tavern once again to maybe mull over some of your less-bitter memories. That thought had you running a hand over your face. What’s become of me?

Sometimes you forgot why you’d joined the marines, and then the poster tucked into the pocket of your coat burned with the reminder. Other times, you wondered why you stayed after all this time (you hadn't found a decent answer for that yet).

You found it was easier to get drunk than to wonder where your decisions had led you.

The moment you stepped into the tavern a wave of warm air hit you, along with the odor of sweat, alcohol, and bread. Not the most pleasing combination, but you trudged inside and beelined for the bar anyway. 

The bartender shot you a tight grin, stress lining her forehead. “What can I get ya?”

“Surprise me,” you muttered, setting some money down on the counter. She swiped it up and made to fetch a drink, but her eyes found your messy uniform first. She hesitated, glancing up at you, before warily continuing on her way.

You threw your head into your hands, heaving a sigh. You really should have changed before leaving the ship. Being a marine didn’t make you popular with a great many people. You liked it when town’s smiled at you even when they saw your uniform, but those occurrences were growing fewer and farther between.

If only you had Koby’s optimism. If only you had the guts to stand up. If only you’d gone with Luffy. If only, if only, if only…

He’d probably forgotten all about you, moved on with the sea in his hair and light in his eyes. 

“Here you go.” The bartender placed a drink to your right. You cast it a glance and pulled it closer, peering into the dark liquid. “Strong stuff. Ya look like you need it.”

You nodded through a huffy laugh. “Thanks, miss.”

After cracking your neck you tipped back your drink, grimacing at the sting and just plain awful taste. She chuckled as she walked away. “Told you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled into the cup, taking another swig and slamming it back down with a cough.

A figure plopped into the seat beside you, the ruffling of their coat meeting your ears. They let free a hefty sigh, and you swore you felt their exhaustion just radiating off their skin. 

“Brandy, if you please.”

You choked into your cup, this time not from the rancid burn. Stiff as a board, you stared daggers into the bar, hands tight around the cup. The bartender handed over a glass to the person beside you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” That voice was gruff with a sly tilt to it. You knew that voice.

You didn’t want to turn, but you did anyway, wide eyes landing on the profile of a one armed, red haired pirate you thought for certain you’d never see again.

Shanks swirled around his liquor before taking a drink, slamming the cup back down a moment later. Really, you should have fled the site and gone to spend a miserable night with the other marines. But your whole body was seized up, eyes locked on Luffy’s idol.

“I—” you squeaked, cupping a hand over your mouth an instant later as Shanks cast you a side eye.

Immediately, he was curious, wondering why exactly this kid looked so familiar. He turned his head, disturbed by how you stared at him like you’d seen a ghost. scrutinizing your face, it hit him like a punch to the gut; in his mind’s eye he shrank you down a few feet, gave you a set of buck teeth, and placed you next to a little curly headed boy.

“Y/N?” He laughed. “What—You’re so big!”

Though he smiled, you couldn’t help but picture his face in a wanted poster. Your uniform felt all too hot and heavy all of a sudden. “Uh…”

“What’re you doing here, kid?” He clapped you on the shoulder and nearly knocked the breath out of you. “Where’s Luffy? I never thought I’d see one without the other.”

You hated to spoil his excitement at the prospect of seeing the boy, so you avoided the question altogether. “I’m here for work.”

He saw right through you, his smile losing some of its genuineness. “And Luffy?” You turned and tipped back the last of your drink, and Shanks finally noticed your attire, particularly the familiar emblem. “Shit—the Marines? Really?”

Annoyance crept up your mind. You held your cup in both hands, gaze hung. “Commander Y/N, at your service.”

“Commander… wow.” He shifted to completely face you, a grin working up his face. “That’s amazing.”

You had expected a shout, maybe the retrieval of his pistol. Not whatever that was. You faced him warily, catching pride flashing in his eyes. “You’re not angry…”

“Why would I be?” He waved for the bartender to bring him another drink, motioning two fingers at her. “You’re successful. Always knew you would be, Worm.”

A childish part of you fluttered at the mention of that old nickname. Bookworm. Hah. You hardly read these days, always too busy. The bartender put down two shot glasses and swept away. “But… My job is to catch pirates like you.”

He scoffed, nudging your glass toward you. “No offense, Commander Bookworm, but you’re not catching me anytime soon.”

“I wasn't going to try. Just saying.” You picked up the glass and watched him reach to clink his to yours. Letting slide a scant smirk, you accepted the cheers and shot back the liquid in sync with Shanks. 

You nearly gagged again as you set the glass back down, laughing. “God, I hate liquor.”

Shanks nudged you as he called for yet another drink. “Can’t say the same.” The conversation fell short, and Shanks cast you a glance as you fiddled with the fabric of your coat. “Mind if I ask how you got here? I mean, I figured for sure you’d be with Luffy. You’ve seen his poster, right?”

“Of course,” you snapped back, your hand passing over your pocket. “I, uhm… A while back, Luffy escaped…”

His eyes held a misty sadness. “And you didn’t.”

You found yourself shaking your head, hands closing into fists. “I chose to stay behind.”

Shanks waited for you to elaborate, blinking blankly. And when you didn’t— “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Excuse me,” you startled.

“Why the fuck,” he enunciated incredulously, “would you stay behind? He’s gotta be beside himself.”

Straightening up, you narrowed your eyes at him. “Even if he was, it’s been years, Red Hair. He’s gotten over it—”

“Have you?” The question was instantaneous, no hesitation behind the dagger-like words.

“What?”

“Gotten over it. I doubt you have.”

You gaped at him. “You know nothing about me. Don’t think you’ve got me all figured out just because you ruined my life by giving Luffy all those stupid dreams—” You choked, huffed, and attempted to make a quick escape.

Shanks’ hand found your shoulder, gentle yet firm, and you plopped back onto your seat, eyes closed tight. “Let me go.”

“I’m sorry,” he said slowly. “Okay? I’ll back off.”

Without asking or saying anything at all, the bartender set another glass of that awful drink in front of you. You took a sip, shaking his hand off and taking a moment to breathe. “It was for the best, all right? I would only hold him back. Look how far he’s come. He couldn’t have done that with me lagging after him.”

“Why would you be lagging?” When you didn’t answer, only turning your face away, he nudged you with his shoulder. “Worm?”

That name made it hard to take anything seriously, but somehow, you managed, hissing out a sigh through your teeth. “It’s much easier to read about other people being brave.” Chewing your lip, “I like to read about heroes, mostly to remind myself why I’m not one.”

“You’re a marine. Surely sometimes you’re a hero.”

“Sometimes.” Throwing caution to the wind, you drank your whole glass in one swig, letting the alcohol simmer through your blood and turn your mind hazy. 

“What did you mean,” he asked. “When you said I ruined your life?”

“Oh. It’s nothing.”

“Tell me.”

You tried to slide off the stool again. “Goodbye, Shanks.”

He didn’t stop you this time, only shifting to watch you slowly trudge away. Shanks scoffed. “C’mon, Worm. What’re you so afraid of?”

Lots of things. You were afraid of spiders and falling, though not of heights themselves, and you quite liked the daddy-long-legs. You were afraid of losing, of failing, of being wrong. Of seeing Luffy again and having him be completely disappointed with what he saw. An all consuming fear that you can’t change what you are, that you’re too far down this road to ever think of turning back.

You hardly realized you’d stopped walking until Shanks was at your side, moving to catch your distracted gaze. “Kid?”

You swallowed thickly. “I was always content with my fate. Luffy wasn’t, and a lot of that has to do with you. The rest was his own passion.” That incessant burn resurfaced in your throat. “So I stayed because I wasn’t about to drag him down with me. He’s too good. I…”

Dammit. You’d been doing so well. You hadn’t cried in months. Trying to glare, you spat, “Goodbye.”

You made to walk past him and actually leave the building this time, but he caught your wrist. Whirling around, your curses were cut off by a quick and dangerous offer: “Come join my crew.”

Shanks was so sincere, nearly hopeful as he stared into your eyes. You wondered if this is how your father would look at you if he knew how to be kind.

Barely breathing, you shoved every word and every notion down to the pits of your mind, retracting your arm to wrap it around yourself. A singular tear fled your eye and was wiped away in an instant. Shaking your head, you backed away from him, trying not to stumble, and bolted out of the tavern. 

The worst of it was Shanks’ sad sigh you caught as you fled, like he’d expected this, like he was wondering why he bothered to ask.

Later, you found Nia and the others waltzing back up to the ship. Your face was dry and your expression a void, and Nia smiled as she raced toward you. 

“Commander!” She skidded to a stop, backtracking, “Sorry. Y/N.”

“What is it?” you said a little too harshly.

She wasn’t perturbed, grinning up at you. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Your heart held this odd numbness you had come to equate with acceptance. Luffy’s poster burned like hellfire in your pocket. “I think so.”

Nia invited you to join the rest of them in the ship’s galley, promising good conversation and cheap wine smuggled on board. You told her you’d think about it, and she chased her friends up the gangway and onto the ship. 

The sea licked at the wood of the docks and the wind bit at your skin. And you stood solemnly, watching that crumpled wanted poster become saturated by murky water till it sank out of view.

You regretted it instantly, a recurring theme for you, apparently. 

How easy would it be to walk away from the marine vessel and find Shanks again? How simple would it be it to ditch this marine’s coat and set off on your own? Your hands started to tremble at the very notion. Not easy and not simple at all. 

Casting a glance up at the starry sky, you bit back a sob, and you made a wish on the first star you laid eyes on. Please, please don’t hate me.

Stiffening, you set your jaw and cursed yourself. You had to get a hold of yourself. Being a marine was hell for you, but you’d been doing it for years. Seeing a ghost from your past and having him give you a chance shouldn’t be so crushing. Honestly, you should be cursing Shanks for giving you an offer you didn’t deserve. This was all his fault, all Luffy’s fault—

And you broke, breath seizing as a silent cry fled your lips. 

You loved him—of course you still loved him. You would until you died, you think. And that was the problem. With your arms wrapped around yourself, you thought back to the day everything changed.

Luffy’s little broken boat, disappearing on the horizon, Vice Admiral Garp leering at your shoulder. Your first moments entrapped by fear. You’d been proud of that day, once upon a time. Now you weren’t so sure.

Was there any room to turn back, with years of running from your past behind you?

“Oh, Luffy. What have I done?”

A cord in your heartstrings snapped, and your feet scrambled away from the marine vessel. A gasp ripped from your chest, eyes aflame, and your fists tightened desperately around this bout of courage.

Back down the road, back to the little tavern, you burst through the double doors, certain you looked insane as your eyes sweeped the dim room. The bartender’s eyes snapped up from where she was cleaning the many glasses you and Shanks had left behind. A fistfull of beri had been left in his wake.

“Keep going left,” said the bartender. “You might catch him.”

A thank you slipped past your lips as you raced outside, raising your hands in two L’s to pinpoint the right direction, taking off down the street that faded from cobblestone to dirt under your footfalls. 

Over twigs and leaves, under trees that grew thick further down the path, your heart thundered against your ribcage. The sloping road grew thin before it gave way to a secluded beach lit only by the moon. Your chest heaved as sand kicked up behind you.

“Wait!” you cried. “Shanks! Wait, please! I'll go with you! Shanks…”

A little lantern illuminated the dingy too far away to hear you as it rowed closer to the ship anchored out in the bay. A whisper of his name fell off your tongue, throat suddenly dry and stomach sick.

You hit your knees, fists grabbing at grains of sand that slipped through your fingertips. “Come back. Please…”

For the second time in your life, you watched a ship sail away carrying with it the chance of freedom, leaving you on the sand empty and helpless.

જ⁀➴

Luffy rarely dreamed when he slept. When he did dream, he never remembered it, the wild scenes fading seconds after he woke. 

Which is why he startled awake, hands clawing at his hammock, straw hat falling off his face and into his lap. He clung to the sound of your laughter, of your touch grazing his cheek, of the feel of your skin under his hands—

He didn’t dream often, but when he did, he often dreamt of you. 

He rubbed at his sleep crusted eyes and ached for the quickly fading memory. The finer details of the plot were soon lost on him, but he knew in this dream you were happy. Luffy liked those dreams much more than the more common ones where you cried, too far out of his reach to comfort.

“Luffy?” spoke Chopper, his voice hazy with sleep as he yawned. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Confused, Luffy realized he was gasping for air. “O–Oh, I’m fine, Chopper.” He glanced down from his hammock to offer the reindeer a trembling smile. “I’m good, really.”

Not buying it, Chopper huffed and stood from his own hammock, making quick work of climbing up to Luffy’s. He sat across from his captain, worry all over his furry face. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He reached over to ruffle the tuft of fur between Chopper’s antlers. “Sorry for waking you.”

He smiled softly. “It’s okay.” Chopper started to snuggle into the fabric of the hammock, obviously having no intention of climbing back down. “I was having a bad dream too.”

Luffy leaned back, doing his best to calm his nerves enough to go back to sleep. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Nami was angry at me. It wasn’t fun.”

The captain laughed, promptly shut up by a voice from the hammock underneath. “Shut up, would ya?”

Chopper squeaked, “Sorry, Zoro.”

The swordsman sighed and rustled in his hammock. “It's fine. Go to bed.”

Soon Zoro’s snores filled the mens’ quarters, and Chopper’s calm breathing soon followed. Sanji and Usopp snored in tandem as well, till only Luffy remained awake, staring at the ceiling, trying desperately to recall his dream.

You couldn’t be happy, wherever you were. How long had it been? Far too long, though he wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed since he last saw you on the beach of Foosha Village. 

Would he recognize you? Would you recognize him? Luffy had to hope the answer was yes, and he had to hope one day he’d have the chance to rescue you, to set you free just as you freed him.

“I’ll find you,” he threatened the silence. “You can’t hide forever.”

Miles and miles away, kneeling on the sand, you swore you heard a familiar voice in the wind, but it couldn’t have been. You were halfway near drunk. That must've been it.

Luffy turned his head to look out the window of the cabin, and you tilted your chin to stare at the stars. The stars twinkled down on the both of you, promises and threats hung on the wind and sea that separated you. 

Some endings are always meant for tragedy. Some loves are meant for doom. It was how Fate worked. 

But Fate favored you and Luffy—forever working to save the other, forever aching for the day that would bring you side by side once again. 

>>

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @khaleesihavilliard

[reddesires]

I stumbled upon your blog and love your Noa fics especially the bathing one and your most recent courting ones! I love your characterisation of him 💕

Can I please request Caesar courting fic pls! Desperately need more of him on your blog! Thank you🩷

Caesar Courting Headcanons [Caesar x Human!Reader]

Caesar x Human Reader

Fandom: Planet Of The Apes

Rating: No Warnings.

A/N: I really think that Caesar is an Acts Of Service king. He shows his love best that way, but you can sprinkle in some words of affirmation here and there since he knows that humans often need assurance of love vocally. I know this isn't a full fic but I had these headcanons written out already, I promise in the near future I'll make it into a whole fic ❤️

•First off, if you think that you'll maintain personal space whilst in the presence of Caesar, you'd be dead wrong. You can guarantee that he'll practically be breathing down your neck making sure that your by all means in top condition, you could be doing daily tasks and sure enough your favorite ape man is somewhere nearby watching.

•He's gonna want your input for things that should be generally for his advisors, but your opinion on things holds a special place for him. Essentially, you'll be his right-hand woman, and no one will convince him that isn't the right choice, starting as right-hand woman to wife after all.

•Your gonna have a chauffeur if you're not within the colony. If he's held up by responsibilities and unable to accompany you, then he's send Rocket or even Blue Eyes to go with you. He'd rather take no risks when it comes to your safety.

• 👏PROVIDING👏 he's determined to make sure that you are as comfortable and fulfilled as possible, as your potential mate (in his mind, you're already his mate sooo) he has to display his resourcefulness. He's aware of most human customs and how difficult life can be when without the luxury of certain necessities that you were used to having before the colony so he's more than willing on being on the hunt for it in the abandoned human locations.

•Whatever free time he has is time spent with you. it's a no-brainer that he's an avid quality time type of guy. All the stress of looking after the colony and constantly being dragged into various meetings and such, you put him at ease with your presence. The usual scowl that resides within his expression softens as he looks at you when you quietly speak to him about whatever crosses your mind.

•Sharing meals with Caesar and his boys up in top nest, you were taken aback the first time he requested it but now it's a given since Caesar figures since you'll soon be joining his family as his mate you minus well share meals with them (your unware of his train of thought on this pfffttt). As soon as meal time is announced, you're off to top nest with an expecting Caesar awaiting your arrival.

•Can you guess who attended to the making of your hut and your comfy nest? You can guarantee that you'll be in possession of the finest pelts and the most structurally sound nest possible, your hut is honestly your sanctuary during the winter months since Caesar ensured that it was as warm enough for you to be comfortable after all you don't have the fur coat to protect you from the freezing temperatures.

•He gifts you with very specific adornments for you to wear, he's almost smug he notices that it's every day that you'll have the custom pieces on your person.

•Caesar is aware that you perceive his actions as him being gracious to you, but he has all the intentions of you becoming his mate. He understands humans have a more casual and outright dating culture, and he plans on speaking more plainly on his aim of becoming your mate. He just enjoys the chase.

[fickleminder]

return to sender

Nightbringer AU. Wherein unsent letters are finally delivered to their intended recipients.

Before Lesson 40 dropped in NB, I often wondered where the letters MC wrote when they were about to be kicked out of the Devildom disappeared to. This fic was also inspired by the lesson where the brothers were talking about their pacts with MC and it sounded like they really regretted it :/

Hopefully you found me helpful from time to time?

Don't push yourself too hard, "big brother."

.

.

.

"SURPRISE!"

The blindfold is pulled away with a flourish, and the first thing that catches your attention is the large banner spanning the entire restaurant with the words "THANK YOU" splashed across in bright colors. Everyone is dressed to the nines, holding party poppers and showering you in confetti, but all you can think about is how tedious the cleanup will be afterwards.

As though reading your mind, Diavolo speaks on behalf of those present. "You are our guest of honor tonight, so please, put all thoughts of work aside and enjoy yourself to the fullest!"

So that's why Asmo has been pestering you about your measurements lately. To his credit, the outfit he personally tailored for you makes you look like you belong in the upper echelon of demon society. Not that there are others around to pass judgement; Ristorante Six is fully booked this evening for the future demon king and his entourage.

"Here, I hope you're hungry." Beel hands you an untouched plate of food, piled high with all the expensive items you can only dream of ordering and then some. Even though half of it is almost gone already, the buffet tables lining the walls feature a generous spread of your favorite dishes.

"A toast," Lucifer announces at one point, raising a glass of blood-red demonus, "to our dutiful attendant."

Everyone follows suit, and a part of you wishes there was actual alcohol in your drink. You're way too sober for an occasion such as this. Still, you smile and laugh along.

"Cheers!"

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Thank you for always thinking of me.

I always had fun when we were together.

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When you finally find the time to visit what's left of Cocytus Hall, all you see is a ring of rubble surrounding a massive sinkhole no one has bothered to clean up yet. Though, in light of recent events, you're not surprised rebuilding isn't on the list of Diavolo's priorities, if it even makes the list to begin with.

The brothers have spared no expense in replacing your personal belongings, furnishing the spare room in the House of Lamentation with all the material comforts to make your residence as cushy as possible. Their personal attendant deserves nothing less, after all. You have everything you could ever need, and yet...

Dirt cakes your skin and wedges under your nails as you start digging with your bare hands, determined to salvage what you can from the remains of your former home. You aren't looking for anything in particular, not that there's much that managed to survive the collapse intact. A crumpled book here, a chipped flowerpot there, scraps of clothing pinned under debris, a thick piece of fabric with 'Kiss The Cook' embroidered on it—

The dam finally bursts. You clutch Solomon's apron to your chest and fall to your knees.

"Come back!" You sob, coughing and choking on dust between desperate gulps of air. "Please, I can't do this without you! Come back! I need you, Sol—"

No one hears you wailing into the night. No one helps you up when your tears run dry at last, when your bones ache with exhaustion and you can't feel your legs anymore.

You have no one to turn to, nowhere else to go, and as you drag your feet back to the House of Lamentation, you pretend you can still feel your mentor’s warmth on the tattered apron wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

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Make sure to take good care of Snake Henry, okay?

I know you'll make an amazing demon.

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"Oi, watch it!"

In the blink of an eye, you find yourself swept off your feet and cradled protectively in Mammon's arms. A shower of rocks and bricks crashes to the ground where you were standing not one second ago.

"Are ya alright? Are ya hurt anywhere?"

"I'm okay! Thanks for the save, Mammon." You gently swat his hands away once you're sure your knees won't buckle. Mammon continues to hover over you, but at least he's stopped checking every inch of your body for injuries.

"This is all Levi's fault," the demon grumbles. "Him and his stupid Envy summoning Lotan—"

"Hey, come on. He wasn't in control and you know it."

"I hate to agree with Mammon, but it totally is when we all have to clean up his mess." Belphie wanders over with a frown, having noticed the commotion. "Why didn't you use your magic to shield yourself?"

"...That's what I have you guys for!" You take a step back to dust yourself off. "Seriously, I owe you one."

"Getting others to do the work for you? Nice." Belphie gives you a thumbs up. You laugh when Mammon tries and fails to ruffle his hair in retaliation.

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Someday we should both go bookstore hopping!

You're fine just the way you are, Satan.

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"Is it just me, or do they seem more tired than usual?"

"Not tired per se, more like defeated?"

"We don't exactly make it easy for them. Plus there's all the stuff happening with the Little D's lately..."

"Maybe they're still upset we didn't make pacts with them."

"Nah, I don't think so. I mean, it's our decision too, and they gotta respect it!"

"They have done a lot for us since becoming our attendant. How about we treat them to a nice dinner? Take them out for a night in town, all expenses paid for."

"A fine idea. I'll run it by Lord Diavolo and see if we can arrange something."

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Looking forward to the next Asmo Night!

I love you! More than words can say!

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There's a chilly breeze in the air tonight, but being bracketed by two demons helps to keep the cold at bay.

"Are you sure you don't want to share my scarf? It's long enough for the both of us~"

"I'm certain you can fit my jacket just fine too."

"Guys, I'm alright!" Their overprotectiveness warms your heart. "We're almost back at Cocytus Hall anyway."

"Already?" Asmo pouts, shifting the bag of groceries to his other arm so that his now-free hand can grab yours. "I told you we should have taken the scenic route! It's so hard to spend time with— Hm?"

The demon lifts your hand and squints at your bare fingers. "No ring today? I noticed you don't wear it anymore."

"Oh, that?" You tug free of his grasp with a small laugh. "I just put it away for safekeeping, that's all. A Celestial item in the Devildom does tend to draw attention..."

"Makes sense. Plus it's Lucifer's, so you shouldn't even be wearing it in the first place," Satan huffs.

Before long, the three of you arrive at the front door of Cocytus Hall. Asmo peers through the dark windows with a curious hum. "Is Solomon not home? Seems like he's never around nowadays..."

"He has some business to take care of in the human world. It's nothing he can't handle by himself, so I'm on my own for a while."

"Why didn't you say so earlier? We could have a sleepover, or you could come stay with us! I'm sure it gets pretty lonely at night—"

"Knowing you and your brothers, I'd never catch a wink of sleep," you deadpan.

"Speaking of, we do need you at the castle early tomorrow." Satan sounds almost apologetic. "Lord Diavolo wants to coordinate efforts for rebuilding after Lotan's flood."

"Understood, I'll be there."

"Get some beauty sleep tonight, okay? See you in the morning!"

Asmo blows you a kiss while Satan hugs you goodbye. Once they leave, you make sure the front door is locked tight behind you before allowing your shoulders to slump.

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Put your name on any treats you put in the fridge.

Keep your brothers safe, okay?

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You love the brothers, you really do, but some days you just want to kick their asses to the Celestial Realm. It never fails to astound you how these centuries-old beings can be so immature.

"—umpteenth time, no brawling in the house!" If it were possible, there would be steam coming out of your ears by now. "What if the fire had spread to the rest of the library?"

"But Mammon ate my—"

"I don't care!" You snarl over Beel's protests, already feeling a headache building at the back of your skull. "If you want to pick a fight with one another, fine! Just take it outside!"

"Ugh, you're not the boss of us!" Belphie snaps back, flicking his tail irritably. "Some of us weren't even involved in this, so leave us out of it!"

The word 'stay' is at the tip of your tongue, ready to put your rowdy demons in their place, and it takes everything in you to hold it in, knowing it won't do any good.

"What the blazes is going on here?!" Lucifer storms in before you can say anything else. "Are you lot not capable of staying out of trouble for one day? And you!"

You flinch as the first-born rounds on you. "I thought I could count on you to have things under control. I'm disappointed to see that I was wrong."

"H-hey, it's not their fault," Levi stammers, looking visibly guilty now that Lucifer has turned his ire towards you. Next to him, the rest of his brothers fidget uncomfortably. "We'll clean this up, okay? So why don't you take it easy on—"

"All of you return to your rooms this instant." Lucifer refuses to budge. "I will supervise to make sure our attendant actually does their job properly this time."

And there goes the rest of your day. You grit your teeth and nod obediently, ignoring the demons filing out of the library one by one, some murmuring apologies as they shuffle past you.

This is fine.

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Someday I'll buy you the ultimate alarm clock.

I love that happy look you have while you sleep.

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"You're the only one who can tell them what happened."

You curl Solomon's fingers over a small stack of letters, written what feels like years ago but never handed to their intended recipients.

If Solomon seemed upset before, he looks downright devastated when you place the Ring of Light on top of the pile, the final nail in the coffin. "We'll find another way," he pleads. "You and me, just— Don't make me do this, please."

"It's too late for me and you know it." You avert your gaze, unable to maintain eye contact with the one person who kept you sane throughout this entire nightmare. "My magic is as good as dead, but you still have enough for a one-way trip."

"I can ask Barbatos for help, I'll do anything he wants—"

"They'll take care of me here, I know it. They may not be the same, but they're still my boys."

Anger and jealousy flash briefly across the sorcerer's face. "If only they knew..."

"All the more they wouldn't let me go," you sigh, rubbing his white knuckles with your thumbs. "They're fresh from the war, strangers in a strange land, and Lucifer just pledged loyalty to Diavolo. Do you really think he'd allow what's left of his family to give their freedom away? To a human no less? I can't use them Sol, not like this."

"You wouldn't hurt them!"

"I know, but they don't. They don't know me here, and by the time they do, we'll both be doomed."

"But Nightbringer—"

"Whatever he’s planning won't work, not without those pacts." Your eyes harden at the thought, determined not to play whatever game this father of demons was trying to pull. "So really, this is for the best. Besides, there's another you running around during this time period. Maybe I'll bump into him someday. Can't have the two of you together, that's too much good food for me."

Despite the weak joke, Solomon cracks a sad smile. "I've never been able to say no to you, my dear apprentice. But before I go, may I?"

You meet Solomon halfway, pressing your lips against his, losing yourself in his arms one last time while trying to imprint the smell of old spell books and spices into your brain.

"Are you sure I can't change your mind?" He whispers, one last-ditch effort even though the answer is clear in your watery eyes.

"Please," you shake your head, "do this last thing for me."

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I always enjoyed the time we spent together.

I hope you never forget me.

Take care of yourselves, okay?

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At the call of your name, you turn around to see a familiar demon rushing through the hallways of RAD towards you, only stopping once you're within arm's reach.

"Hi Barbatos, did you need something?" You frown, noticing his somewhat unkempt state up close. A loose button in one corner, collar not done up all the way— It's as close to disheveled as you've ever seen him, not to mention the tips of his horns and tail are quivering slightly.

The butler doesn't answer. He continues to stare at you with a foreign look in his eyes, which have started to mist over.

"...Hey, are you alright?"

Barbatos breathes your name again, in a tone you haven't heard since Solomon left this timeline altogether, and something buried deep inside your heart sings.